Afterglow
by Molvanian Queen-In-Exile
Summary: An incident with Polyjuice leaves Harry carrying Severus Snape's child, even though the real Snape has never touched him. What will he do? Mpreg. Repost.
1. Fallen

WARNING! WARNING: this fic is **_R-rated for a reason_**, people, keep that in mind! Also WARNING: SLASH AND MPREG! IF THIS SQUICKS YOU, LEAVE NOW!

Now, to those of you still here…..

**Summary**: (For those of you who don't remember this one) I wish I could say this was an original bunny, but it's not…..so here goes:

Response to challenge # 54 (or # 57, they are exactly the same ) at the Mpreg archive.

"Harry has a crush on Severus. He talks Ron **or someone else** (_I'm choosing the latter option because Harry/Ron doesn't sit well with me_) into polyjuicing themselves into Severus and having sex with Harry. Harry gets pregnant. When the baby is born it is clearly a Snape. What will Severus do when he finds out?"

I might actually twist this so that the paternity of the child is determined by a spell, but Sev wont be informed until he sees the child for himself. Or perhaps stumbles upon Harry's medical records. I don't know yet, I'm still trying to sort out the technicalities.

But, wicked grin oh, the things I could do….LOL.

**Timeline:** Another post-Voldemort fic. Begins as we near the end of Harry's 6th year. I'd say it's about February…..

**Disclaimer: **Okay, so unfortunately, I still don't own anything remotely related to 'Harry Potter'. If I did, the series would be called 'Severus Snape and a whole lot of other meaningless things', and we'd probably all be in a bit of trouble. Now that we've settled the legalities, let's get on with the show. Oh, I should also note that the title comes from Sarah McLachlan's latest offering…which is BRILLIANT, as per usual…and all the chapter titles are also hers…I'm just thankful they fit…and that she has inspired me to pick up my pen and write again….

* * *

This was bad, Harry Potter told himself, as he observed his Potion's Master's every move. Absolutely terrible, in fact. He was expected to produce a perfect PepperUp as part of his 6th year revision curriculum -to ascertain that the students were capable to begin to study the more complex potions, and continue on with their NEWTS the next year- but had run into some _minor _technical difficulties in the ingredients department.

The problem? Essentially it was that he didn't _have_ any of the ingredients. Certainly, this would be easily solved if he were to walk over to the storage cabinet and retrieve some spares from the student stores…..However, the aching erection that he was suffering from at that particular moment prevented him from doing anything at all.

There was NO bloody way he was going to get up in front of the 6th year Gryffindors and Slytherins in his current state. It was utterly humiliating!

And he'd thought he'd gotten over these sorts of embarrassing scenarios during puberty a good three or four years earlier! A derisive snort almost escaped him at the thought. Of course he shouldn't have hoped to be so lucky. After all, nothing ever came easily for him. He was The Boy Who Lived, for Merlin's sake. Forever doomed to a life of dealing with one problem after another.

Whether it be unravelling the Dark Lord as an infant and losing his parents, being shut up under the stairs of his abusive relatives' home, gaining and losing his Azkaban-escapee Godfather or discovering that, unlike most boys his age, he wasn't particularly interested in the female of his species, but rather extremely interested in the males, Harry-Sodding-Potter was forever meeting one complication after another.

And all he'd ever wanted was to be a 'normal' boy. He fought another urge to snort at that. Hermione had attempted to placate him with useless clichés when he had voiced his wish. "_But what IS 'normal', Harry?"_ She'd asked him, thinking that the comment was actually **helping**.

Naturally, he had snapped, and promptly informed her that _normal_ was NOT having insane, megalomaniac wizards out to kill him. _Normal_ was growing up in a family that DIDN'T lock their children up under the stairs, and attempt to starve them. _Normal_ was NOT fantasising about fucking every boy in the school up against the walls of the castle when he should CLEARLY be thinking about the girls. "_**Normal**, Hermione, Is everything that I'm not!"_

And, of course, that little explosion hadn't occurred in privacy, had it? Oh no. It had been right in the middle of one of the grandstands of the Quidditch Pitch, during the Slytherin/Ravenclaw match the previous year. Naturally, every student in the school had witnessed it, causing a fair amount of backlash, gossip, and good old-fashioned fallouts with friends.

And he had thought things couldn't get any worse.

Which was, in hindsight, the most stupid thing he could have done.

The very **_instant_** Harry Potter had thrown up his hands and declared that life HAD to be 'all down hill' from there, he had been thrown into battle with the Dark Lord yet again. His closest friends had, of course, surrounded him at the time, and he felt incredibly guilty for every wound that each of them received. Thank Merlin that there were no fatalities amongst them, as he wouldn't have been able to cope with the guilt and the pain of losing even more people that he cared about.

But soon, the battle had been over, and 'Harry Potter' was a name of the past. In fact, so was the irritating epithet that had hounded him for the entirety of his Hogwarts' career to that point. Gone were The Boy Who Lived's glory days, and enter the new title under the spotlight: _Neville Longbottom 'The Boy Who Prevailed'_.

Apparently, Neville had been the key to Dumbledore's sodding prophecy in the end. And wasn't the old coot's face red! Although, that _might_ have been due to the number of jinxes and hexes Harry had thrown at him for the 5 or so **wasted** years he had spent being manipulated by the twinkling old fart AND for being put into the Dursley's home after his parents' deaths. Albus, for his part, turned a blind eye to his once-Golden Boy's temper tantrum, feeling that he deserved the attack on his person, and had thanked Harry for all he had done in aid of 'his cause'.

Eventually, Harry calmed down, realising that Dumbledore hadn't actually done anything wrong, and made attempts to pay attention to the world surrounding him once more.

So, it was only predictable that good ol' dependable Neville Longbottom, the Hufflepuff in Gryffindor's clothing, had rocketed to stardom, and Harry Potter had been given his wish. The fickle wizarding public were slowly forgetting about the unfortunate son of Lily and James Potter, and allowing him to live out the rest of his life in peace.

Or so it had seemed at the time.

But, sadly, when the initial shock of the final battle had died down, the Wizarding world started to, once again, acknowledge Harry and his contribution to the war. Only this time, journalists like Rita Skeeter appeared more frequently, and from all over the world, begging for pictures and interviews of he and Neville together and generally leaving him with a bigger headache than any of Voldemort's nightmare-sent visions had ever induced.

Thankfully, after returning from Christmas break, the media hype had worn down and Mr Potter found himself, once again, being lulled into a false sense of contentment and security. Until, of course, he found himself becoming rather…..attached…..to his Potions professor.

Needless to say, it was said 'attachment' which eventually led Harry to his current dilemma; dealing with his painful arousal –surely a simple crush couldn't induce a reaction _THIS_ bad- and somehow still managing to pass the subject by completing his PepperUp potion.

"Potter!" the object of his musings yelled suddenly, causing both Harry **and** his prick to twitch in anticipation.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Why is it," the man began, his tone dangerously gentle, oblivious that his velvety voice was making the poor boy even harder, if that was at all possible, "that we are fifteen minutes into our lesson, and you have not yet made any attempt to begin your potion?"

Harry bit back a moan, and swallowed rather audibly. "Sorry, Sir." He managed, hoping beyond hope that his voice was steady and his face impassive. "I….." he glanced around, hoping to find some sort of excuse for his slacking off that did not involve admitting he was struggling with the mother of all erections because one Severus Snape looked positively scrumptious today. "I suppose I sort of……drifted off, Sir."

Well it wasn't a complete lie.

The scrumptious Professor arched an elegant eyebrow. "Indeed, Mr Potter. Perhaps you would like to 'drift off' towards the ingredients cabinet?"

A few Slytherins sniggered. In fact, if Harry were to be completely honest about the situation, he would agree that quite a few of the Gryffindors were also giggling behind his back.

Snape scowled when his student made no move to comply. "Mr Potter!" He snapped. "I suggest you move quickly, because every five seconds from this moment I will be taking one point from Gryffindor for your laziness, until your ingredients are laid out in front of you, and you are working like the rest of your peers."

The giggling and chuckling from the Gryffindors died immediately, and were replaced by groans of despair. "Yes, Sir." Harry sighed, and willed his traitorous member to calm itself -'_just a little, PLEASE_'- and took a deep breath before rising from his seat.

When nobody laughed at him, he glanced down discreetly and realised that his robes were in such a position that they disguised the tent in his trousers. He almost sighed in relief, before realising that he had to make it all the way to the other side of the room, where the ingredients where kept, and then back to his seat, without shifting his robes and revealing his _problem_.

"That's already three points gone, Potter." Snape sneered, making his task even more difficult, which was most likely the man's intention, but Harry was sure that his Professor didn't realise exactly _how_ he was causing discomfort. "No…..four, now."

'_Here goes nothing'_ Harry thought to himself, before taking long, purposeful strides across the room.

"Seven points, Potter."

The Gryffindor chewed on his lower lip, visibly attempting to maintain his concentration as he collected his ingredients.

"Nine."

A groan attempted to escape past his lips, and he swallowed it back down as he reached for another bottle from the shelves.

"Ten."

His ingredients balancing precariously in his arms, Harry pivoted and started to walk back.

"Twelve."

'_Just keep walking. Almost there. Watch out for Malfoy's desk.'_

"Thirteen."

Salvation was staring Harry directly in the face, and he sped up a little, so to reach his desk that **tiny **bit faster. And then he felt himself stumble. '_Oh, Fuck no.'_ The Gryffindor had just enough time to see Draco pulling his foot back behind his table, a malicious smirk on his lips. '_The ferret!'_ Harry swore he'd take his revenge. After he stopped falling, of course.

"Fourt…..Potter!"

Severus turned just in time to see Dumbledore's former Golden Boy take a nosedive towards the dungeon floor. Directly in front of Malfoy's desk. Severus fought the urge to shake his head. Honestly, Draco had to learn to be subtler. How he had managed to obtain and keep the 'Prince of Slytherin' title bewildered the Head of House at times.

With reflexes that came purely from his near 20 years as a spy, Snape whipped out his wand and managed to stop Harry's fall, saving both the boy _and_ the valuable potions ingredients from a messy meeting with the cold, stone floor.

"Thankyou, Sir." Potter said, blushing sheepishly.

Severus' scowl deepened. "That's twenty points so far, Potter. Care to make it thirty?"

"He hates me." Harry moaned, collapsing onto the common room couch. "I mean, he _really_ hates me."

Hermione sighed, and seated herself next to him. "I'm sure you're over exaggerating, Harry." She soothed, rubbing reassuring circles on his back, not even pausing to question why Harry was taking Snape's attitude so personally this time. After all, he'd had a rough time of everything, and wasn't known to think his reactions to people through at the best of times. "I mean, he had to play a role for so long, that perhaps he has trouble distinguishing-"

"Oh sod off with your psycho-analytic shite." The Boy Who Lived cut in. At his best friend's hurt look, he softened. " 'Mione, I'm sorry. It's just…..how can that be true? I mean, he's not as…..cruel…..as he used to be, before Voldemort was taken care of, and he's starting to treat all the other Gryffindors somewhat more fairly……he even speaks to _Neville_ civilly. But not me."

"Well you do bait him so…."

"What!"

"You heard me, Harry Potter." She levelled her gaze at him. "Sometimes…..it's almost as if you go out of your way to annoy him….."

The raven-haired young man glowered. "I do _not_ deliberately try to _annoy_ him." He huffed. "Do you really think I'm that stupid? To try to _irritate_ the man?"

"Well….." She started, avoiding his gaze.

His jaw dropped. "You do!"

She folded her arms over her chest. "Perhaps if you stopped with the sorts of displays like in class today-"

"Displays?" He echoed, mortified. "I didn't do **anything**!"

"That's just it, Harry." She replied softly, gently running a hand through his hair in a rather motherly gesture of affection. "You completely ignored his instructions until he was forced to snap and take points."

"Completely ignored? 'Mione, I didn't _mean_ to do it!"

"Oh? Then why did you sit there for fifteen minutes-"

"I couldn't very well get up in front of the rest of the class-"

"-then take your time when he asked, rather nicely for Professor Snape actually, for you to get a move on-"

Harry snapped. He'd been doing it quite a lot recently, to be honest. He supposed it was because he was growing extremely frustrated…He needed a good shag. With Professor Snape, if it was at all possible. "Because _had_ I stood up and walked across the room, I would have been the laughing stock of the school!" He paused for a second, before adding; "Again!"

"Oh?" The bushy-haired know-it-all inquired, her head cocked to the side. "Why _this time_, then?"

"Because, if you must know, I was trying hard not to explode in my trousers because Professor Snape was just so bloody shagable today!"

Attempting to catch his breath after his outburst, Harry's face drained of its colour. He hadn't just _yelled_ that out loud, had he? A quick glance around at the horrified faces of his housemates suggested that he had. With a moan, the Boy Who Lived dropped his head into his hands.

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed, and pulled him into a hug. "Professor Snape?"

He nodded mutely, burying his face into the crook of her neck, not wanting to see the disgust on his peers' faces. On her face. On Ron's.

"Bloody Hell, mate." Came the voice of his aforementioned redheaded friend, as if on cue. His expression of mortification was soon followed by a predictable question. "_Why_?"

Harry shrugged, and pulled away from Hermione's embrace. He looked around at the assembled Gryffindors before turning back to his friends. "Can we take this discussion somewhere…..else? Somewhere a bit more private?"

Ron nodded and stood up, but their female counterpart looked as if she were about to protest. She kept looking between Harry, Ron and the clock. The redhead frowned at her. "Give up on following the rules for a bit, 'Mione." He said, acting rather mature for once. "It's not like we're sneaking out to do mischief or get food. Harry needs us."

Realising that Ron was right, for once, Hermione nodded. "Well then, go fetch your cloak, Harry." She demanded, striding to the common room exit. "Hurry along. We haven't got _all_ night, after all."

Smiling gratefully, Harry complied and made his way to his dorm, before returning with his father's invisibility cloak. The trio exited via the portrait hole, and then slipped underneath the material, each crouching down, to ensure the cloak's coverage of their bodies. It was hard to imagine a time when the three of them fit effortlessly underneath the cloak, even though it had been a mere 5 years earlier.

"So, where are we off to, then?" Ron whispered, his breath tickling the back of Hermione's neck.

She smothered a sigh. "Room of Requirement. I believe it's private enough."

Harry nodded, and the small group made their way down the halls as soundlessly as possible. When they reached their destination, Hermione instructed them to all think of a comfortable safe-haven. Perhaps something like the Gryffindor common room, without the other students.

The door appeared in the wall, and the trio stepped into the room, smiling in appreciation. A fire crackled away at the wall on the right, and there were large, plush couches situated strategically in front of the hearth. Also placed in front of the fireplace, was a large coffee table, with an assortment of biscuits and milk, both warm and cold.

Ron leapt towards the food immediately, causing his friends to laugh lightly and follow him towards the comfortable setting. Harry dropped down onto one of the couches, and grinned as he sunk deep into the cushions. His position was so pleasant that he almost forgot all about _why_ they were there in the first place.

Naturally, Hermione did not.

"Harry," she started, hesitantly. "You know we love you….."

He avoided her gaze. "Yeah, I know."

"And we'll accept you no matter what….."

He swallowed. "Uh huh…."

"It's just that…." She floundered for the right words to say, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was. The poor young man was clearly messed up over his feelings as it was; the last thing he needed was to have his friends berate him for things he really could not control.

Harry, ever the hero, swept in to save her from the trouble. "It's wrong of me to want to shag Snape, I know. It's sick, and twisted, and disturbing, and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish it was someone –_anyone_- else."

"That's not what I was about to say…." She said, getting up from her seat, and slipping in beside him. "It's a surprise, is all. I mean, I can see _how_ a person could be attracted to him-"

Ron, who had just taken a nice swig of his warm milk, spluttered and spat it all out onto his robes. "WHAT!" He cried, paying no attention to the mess he had made of himself. " 'Mione, you can't be serious!"

She bristled, and rolled her eyes, realising that the sudden burst of maturity he'd had earlier had disappeared in much the same manner it had arrived. "Honestly, Ron, stop being so childish." She reprimanded, before looking back at Harry. "He _is_ rather enigmatic…..and has a tall, dark, mysterious charm about him…..and, now that he takes more care with his personal appearance, he really is rather stunning, in a classical beauty sort of way…."

"The way you're talking right now makes me wonder if _you_ might have a crush on the bat." Ron snorted.

Hermione glowered at him. "That is far from funny, Ron. Keep this up, and I'll have the room kick you out."

His eyes widened in horror. "You can do that?"

She shrugged. "Most probably."

"So, you **don't** think it's wrong, and twisted and disturbing?" Harry interrupted, feeling, for the first time in a long while, that maybe –just maybe- everything would be okay.

"Well, I do-" Ron began to reply, before having another chocolate chip biscuit thrust into his mouth. He glared at Hermione as he chewed, and swallowed. "What?" He snapped at her. She gestured towards their other friend, who sat with his head hung in shame and self-pity.

He sighed, "Mate, it's not that I find _you_ twisted and all that……I'm just…..I don't know if I'll ever be okay with the thought of two men together, you know? Especially not my best mate and my greasy, evil git of a Potions professor."

Harry nodded. Ron was trying. Really he was. "Even though Bill is that way inclined as well?" He eventually responded, his green eyes glittering in amusement. Ron had never mentioned his eldest brother's sexuality before. Not even in passing.

The redhead began to nod. "Even though Bill is-" He froze. "Harry, how in Merlin's name did you know that?"

Harry grinned, causing Ron to groan. "On second thoughts, I don't want to know."

The Boy Who Lived burst into laughter, easing the tension between himself and his two best friends further. "Nah, it's all good. George kind of let it slip last time I saw him. You know, when I 'officially' told your family."

"Oh, right." The youngest Weasley male said, taking a deep breath in relief.

Harry smirked and waited another second before adding; "He's not a bad kisser, though, your brother."

All the colour drained from Ron's face, and he hastily set his biscuit aside. "I think I'm going to be sick……"

Hermione rolled her eyes in the redhead's direction, before looking back at the other boy. "But, in all seriousness, Harry," She began, taking his hand in hers, "I know that you can't help who you fall for. Nobody can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having feelings for Professor Snape….." She paused, as if to consider the truth of her statement, then amended; "Apart from him being your Professor, that is."

Harry chuckled, and accepted her placations. "Thankyou." He said softly, squeezing her hand to show his appreciation. "I'm…..glad I was able to get all that off my chest. I'll admit, I didn't want to mention anything, but I think……I think I needed to."

The girl, to his surprise, nodded, her eyes filling with tears. She wiped them away, angrily, on the sleeve of her cardigan, chuckling softly at herself. "Sorry," she smiled, "I….get a bit emotional every so often, as you well know." She dabbed gently at her eyes. "Stupid hormones. Sometimes it's positively dreadful being a girl."

Harry smiled back, "I can only imagine. Glad it's not me, anyway."

She nodded. "_You_ don't have to put up with cramps, and chocolate cravings, and uncomfortable _things-_" she toned down the descriptions, knowing that her two male friends were uneasy with issues of feminine hygiene, "-being put in place to prevent blood-"

Ron groaned and covered his ears with his hands. " 'Mione!" He cried, horrified. "Too much information!"

Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Ron. It's the facts of life. Better to know these things, whether male or female, before getting into trouble later on."

"But, as you just said, _we_ don't _have_ to worry about those things." He countered. "_We_ just have to worry about knocking you up."

Harry winced. Comments like that did not go down well with Hermione Granger. She scowled and, true to form, lunged into a tirade about Ron's immaturity and lack of respect for women. Once finished, she glanced at the clock and gasped. It was 2 hours past curfew! They'd be slaughtered if caught out of Gryffindor Tower at this hour!

"Alright you two," Hermione took command, "Under the cloak this instant. And do _try_ to keep silent. I'd still like for Gryffindor to remain in _positive_ points this year."

The boys complied, and soon the trio were headed back to Gryffindor Tower, safely ensconced in Harry Potter's invisibility cloak, unaware of a pair of storm cloud coloured eyes staring in their direction, aware of their presence in the hallway, and of the conversation which they'd had in the _supposed_ privacy of Hogwarts' Room of Requirement.

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A/N –I can't wait for your thoughts on this…..er…again, I mean….

Ciao,

The Author


	2. World On Fire

WARNING THIS IS DEFINITELY **R** AND **SLASH** (AND **MPREG**) GO NO FURTHER IF THIS SQUICKS YOU! PLEASE!

A/N –Well, it's nice that people are still reading and reviewing this (as it is the third time I've had to repost it) So, to those of you that are sticking by me as I do it all again, I am sending you BIG HUGS and the second chapter!

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The next few days passed without any major trauma for the Golden Trio. Classes continued in their usual patterns, Harry and Ron practiced their Quidditch diligently, and there were no scuffles with Malfoy in the halls.

Although, Harry contemplated, that in itself was noteworthy.

Though the Slytherin Prince had proven himself an ally to the Light in the time of need, he'd continued to taunt The Boy Who Lived and his sidekicks at every given chance. Especially after Harry's impromptu 'coming out'.

So, when the blonde git refused to even acknowledge Harry's presence in the Potions classroom that afternoon, the Gryffindor began to worry.

"Oi," Ron's voice cut into Harry's ponderings, "Earth to Harry."

"Hmm?" The Boy Who Lived said, turning to look at his friend. "Sorry, what?"

The other boy shook his head. "Class was over five minutes ago, mate. Thought you might want to head up for tea." A sly grin spread over his face, and the raven-haired boy knew he was in for a teasing. "I mean, I know you've got a thing for the greasy git, but sitting in his classroom all night is a bit much."

Harry rolled his eyes and gave his friend a small smile. "Say it a bit louder. In case Snape didn't hear you from his rooms the first time."

Ron shook his head with a sigh. "Too late. I think the rumours would have reached the staff by now."

Harry knew his friend was right. After all, he **had** shouted it out in front of the entire Gryffindor house the other night…and news like that tended to spread like wildfire throughout the rest of the school. Especially when one was the Boy Who Lived. He sighed, "You think he believes them, then?"

"What?"

"The rumours. What everyone's saying. You know," he took a breath, "That I want to shag him."

The youngest Weasley male made a face. "Don't know. Don't think I _want_ to know. Who knows what sort of perverse fantasies your little crush might have stirred in him." He pointedly shuddered at the thought.

Harry, meanwhile, broke into a wide smile. "That'd be nice." He said, more so to himself than to Ron.

The redhead looked horrified.

Harry chuckled. "Think of it this way…how would you feel if Hermione started thinking about you and her-"

Ron's cheeks burned and he was quick to cut his best friend off. "Alright, fine. The thought of you and Snape is still disgusting, though."

The Boy Who Lived laughed and finished gathering his parchment and quills, placing them into his book-bag with the rest of his classroom supplies. "To dinner, then." He said, following Ron out the door.

Moments later, Ron stopped abruptly, and Harry ran into him from behind. "Ron!" He exclaimed, struggling to regain his balance. "What are you playing at?"

His best friend ignored him, though, and glared straight ahead. "What do _you_ want, _Ferret features_?" He asked.

Harry sighed, and peered around his friend, to come face to face with Draco Malfoy. "Ron," he tried gently, hoping he'd be able to get the other boy to see reason. "We're still in the Dungeons. Slytherin territory. And Malfoy _is_ a Slytherin."

The blonde smirked and nodded, his eyes never leaving Harry's, even though he addressed Ron. "See, Weasley? Even Potter can't fault me for heading towards my dormitory."

The redhead fumed, and reached for his wand, only to find it missing. A second later, Harry was dangling it in front of him, a look of apology passing over his face.

"Sorry, mate. I had to do it. Don't want to see us lose more points because you can't hold your temper." He held up his hand as Ron moved to protest, realising that the Slytherin was gesturing for the need to talk with him. He sighed, "Look, why don't you head on up to the Great Hall. I've left something in the classroom anyway." His friend looked sceptical. "Ron, I swear, I'll be ten steps behind you."

"Fine," was the redhead's parting response. He grabbed his wand from his best friend and shot a glare in Malfoy's direction as he left.

Once certain that Ron was gone, Harry turned to the blonde. "Right," he began, arms folded over his chest. "What do you want?"

"Let's just say that I heard you had a thing for my Head of House…" Draco replied in a drawl, picking an imaginary piece of lint from his robe.

The Boy Who Lived laughed. "And this is NEW information? Honestly, THAT rumour has been going around for DAYS now, Malfoy. And you believed that rubbish?"

Draco shook his head, and took a step forward. "No. But I believe what I heard in the Room of Requirement the other night."

Harry paled, before quickly attempting to cover his tracks. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Harry," The other boy smirked dangerously, testing the name on his tongue. "Don't give me that rot. I was there. I heard everything." At the look on his rival's face, he added, "Your father was not the only wizard to ever own an invisibility cloak."

"You were spying on me…on us."

"I hadn't originally intended on it."

"But you were!"

The Slytherin shrugged. "I had nothing better to do and, as it appeared we were headed towards the same place, I took advantage of the situation."

"So what now? Come to gloat?" Harry asked, a grin slowly making its way onto his lips. "You do realise I'm not ashamed of it now, right? Even if he were to know-"

"He does."

"What?" The Gryffindor froze, "I…bugger."

Draco chuckled softly, his tone remarkably free of malice. "Exactly." He lost his smirk, and for a minute reminded Harry of an actual human being. "Unfortunately for you, Severus was less than impressed."

Despite himself, Harry's face fell and he felt his chest constrict. "Oh." He said, sounding somewhere between dejected and incredibly hurt. He didn't know why he felt that way; he _knew_ Snape wouldn't ever welcome the idea with open arms, but it _hurt_ to be told. Especially by his rival.

Suddenly remembering who his partner in conversation was, the raven-haired boy shook himself from his stupor. "Well," He started, as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Was bound to be like that, wasn't it? Just a schoolboy crush anyway. Nothing serious." He paused a moment, then sneered, "The greasy git should have been flattered."

This time, the blonde laughed outright. Again, his tone was eerily friendly. "He's not so greasy anymore, Potter."

The words also lacked spite.

Harry was taken aback. "Mal…er…._Draco_…" He started, cautiously. "Are you feeling alright? I mean, it's just that… you're being rather…nice…to me. And it's really alarming."

The Slytherin paused a moment, "Am I?" At Harry's affirmative nod, he scowled. "Ah…sod it."

The Gryffindor observed the blonde for another moment. "Alright." He finally began, extending his hand. "Whatever it is you've gotten your ferret-paws onto this time, I want some."

With a sigh, the blonde reached into his robes and extracted a half-empty vial, labelled in Snape's concise handwriting. _Numbing Draught_. Harry furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed. What on earth would Malfoy want a numbing draught for? It was intended to dim the senses, and one's emotions, and worked on a time release, so that the taker would slowly drift into a bland, almost emotionless state.

"Why'd you take this?" The raven-haired boy asked after a moment, eyeing his rival wearily.

Draco shrugged, becoming even more complacent. "Felt like it."

"Well you wont be feeling much else for at least another hour…" Harry muttered, then sighed, "Come on, we'd best get you somewhere less…public. Wouldn't want you blaming me if someone saw us being civil."

At that, Harry led the way up and out of the dungeons and towards the Room of Requirement. He paced outside the wall for a moment, thinking that they would need dinner, and a relatively comfortable room to eat it in. The door soon appeared, and the two boys entered to find a miniature version of the Great Hall set up for them.

"Come on then," the Gryffindor urged, "Sit down and eat up, it should help dilute, or at least soak up, the potion in your bloodstream."

Nodding, the Slytherin complied, and slowly worked his way back into small insults to Harry's intelligence and so forth. "Okay, Malfoy." The Boy Who Lived finally said, setting his plate aside, feeling rather overfed. "You sought me out after class, so spill it. What do you want? If this is about Snape-"

"Potter, shut up." Draco snapped, pushing his own plate away. "I didn't want to gloat about Snape."

"Oh?" Harry's interest was piqued. "Alright then, what else could you have wanted-"

A warm set of lips on his own stopped him from speaking and, for the briefest moment, Harry succumbed into the kiss, before widening his eyes in shock and pulling away.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" He hissed, leaping from his seat. "One second you hate me, the next you're shoving your tongue down my throat-"

"That," Draco responded, his trademark smirk back in action, "doesn't mean that I don't still hate you Potter." He eyed Harry in the most predatory fashion he could muster, "One can hate someone, and still want to shove them over a desk and have their way with them."

The Gryffindor glowered. "And yet, I've never looked at _you_ like that before!"

"But you want to fuck Snape. Or, from what I heard the other night, you want _him_ to fuck you."

"I-" Harry stopped himself. Malfoy had a point. One second he'd hated Snape with a passion, and the next he'd found himself unexplainably attracted to the man, which had lead to forming a loose thread of respect from that…and his crush had continued to develop from there. He scowled. "That still has _nothing_ to do with you."

"No, I suppose it doesn't. However," the blonde grinned, "I believe I have a solution to both our problems…"

Despite the protests of his inner voice, Harry cocked his head to the side. "I'm listening."

Little over a month later found Harry pacing nervously outside the Room of Requirement once more. It had been hard lying to his best friends in order to escape the Common Room alone, but he had done it, and it was relatively too late to turn back. He'd made a deal with Malfoy, and had followed through to this point; there was no way he could stop now.

Three determined strides forward.

_Why am I doing this?_

Pivot on the heel.

_Is it **really** going to get rid of this stupid crush?_

Another three steps in the other direction.

_Where the fuck is Malfoy?_

Pivot.

_Oh, Merlin, do I really want to do this?_

Another three steps.

**THUD**.

"Malfoy!" He hissed, now sprawled across the ground. "You couldn't have taken off the bloody cloak?"

A blonde head emerged in mid air. "Tsk Tsk. Constant vigilance, Potter." He sneered in a bad impersonation of the late Mad-Eye Moody. "Don't know _how_ you managed to survive the Dark Lord all those years."

Harry sighed, and extended his arm. "Give us a hand up?" An invisible hand gripped at his wrist, and he pulled himself to his feet. "Thanks," he muttered, then narrowed his eyes, "You've got everything, then?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Of course, now let's get inside, unless you _want_ to be caught?"

"Fine." The Gryffindor snapped, moving over to the previously invisible door. He turned the nob, and took a step into the room, which now resembled the potions classroom, just as the two boys had agreed. Harry turned back around to face his rival. "Alright, you said something about modifications?"

The Slytherin slipped out of his invisibility cloak, and withdrew a couple of vials from his robes. "This," he began, gesturing to the murky green liquid, "Is the completed Polyjuice as we all know it."

Harry fought the urge to compare the blonde to Hermione in lecture mode.

Draco, unaware of Harry's thought process, continued his explanation. "This-" he placed a pale blue liquid down on the desk in front of him, "Is an advancing serum. It should, if taken exactly 20 seconds after the Polyjuice, advance the effects, and extend the duration of the first potion."

"Okay…" Harry nodded, looking down at the two vials, "And that means?"

The Prince of Slytherin moaned. "Don't you listen to Snape at _all_, Potter?"

The raven-haired boy blushed. "I get a bit…distracted, actually."

With another groan, Draco shook his head. "Fine. Whatever. Anyway, in answer to your incredibly stupid question, it basically means that not only will the taker –in this situation; me- look like Snape for an hour, they will also attain his voice and perhaps –depending on the strength of the serum- some more technical details too, such as elements of personality." He paused, "The usual length of the potion is about 1 hour as well, is it not?" Harry nodded, and the blonde continued. "Right, well, with the advancing serum, it will also last longer. Again, how long really depends on the strength of the serum. Considering the fact that I stole this one from Snape's personal stores, I think it's safe to assume the potion is relatively potent."

"Alright…" Harry fidgeted, "We're really going to go through with this, aren't we?" Draco nodded, and he sighed. "You're sure there aren't going to be any side-effects from using the potion? I don't want to have to take you to Pomfrey looking like Snape if you pass out or something."

"Of course I'm sure." The other boy growled in response. "Do you really think I'd be doing something if I thought I might suffer from it?"

"Well, no…."

"Good."

The Boy Who Lived watched in silence as Draco uncorked the green vial, and swallowed the contents, then waited 20 seconds to drink the blue. Within moments, the Prince of Slytherin was no longer standing in front of him, but rather the Head of the House himself.

"Well?" Draco drawled in a voice so unlike his own, extending his long, pale arms and inspecting them, "What do you think?"

Harry's mouth had gone dry. There stood Severus Snape –or someone that looked and sounded exactly like him- in clothing that was much too tight for him. Draco's trousers and shirt, it appeared, worked perfectly in highlighting the Professor's lithe form. "Ppfwoar…" He finally managed.

Draco laughed; a strange, rich sound coming from Snape's lips.

Harry found that his body really liked it when Snape laughed.

Draco, of course, noticed. He grinned wickedly; creating another fantastic twist to add to Harry's list of '_Things Severus Snape Should Do More Often_'. "Worked that well, did it?" Malfoy-Snape purred, gesturing to the apparent bulge in Harry's slacks. He sidled closer to the raven-haired boy. "Go on, then, give me the once over."

Hesitantly at first, The Boy Who Lived raised a hand and placed it on the impostor Snape's chest. Draco twitched in anticipation at the contact. Harry smiled to himself, and unbuttoned the tight shirt, anxious to see the pale skin underneath. He was not disappointed.

"My My, Professor…" He said quietly, more so to himself than to Malfoy, "What **_do_** you get up to in your spare time?" Surely standing over a cauldron day in and day out would not maintain that type of physique. The Gryffindor was pleased and mildly surprised.

"Hurry it up, Potter." The other man murmured, leaning into the contact. "Despite the extended duration of the potion's effects, **_I _**might not be able to hold out for as long."

Harry chuckled at Draco's insistence. Over the course of the past month, the two had mucked around a little. They'd never taken things the entire way, but had gotten to know each other's bodies quite well. Harry was not in the least attached to the blonde, and still found he rather disliked the boy, but the release he attained when he was with him was worth setting their animosity aside every so often. Besides, Malfoy gave a damn good blowjob.

"Oh, shut it Malfoy," he replied, slowly inspecting Severus Snape's lower torso, and the dip of his tight trousers. "You can wait a few minutes…"

"I bloody well can not!" One of Snape's hands came down on Harry's wrist, and pushed his hand onto the evidence that Draco was having a hard time controlling his –or were they Severus'?- instincts. "See?" He hissed.

Harry swallowed. But Merlin, Severus was a blessed man. "Not yet, but I can't wait to." He shot back, attempting to undo the belt buckle and then zipper of Draco's pants.

Another laugh escaped the other man's lips, and it went straight to Harry's groin. "Merlin, Draco…." He gasped, "Do you have _any_ idea what that does to me? Snape _has_ to laugh more often."

Another chuckle. Harry moaned, slowly losing control of himself. He struggled to remove Draco's trousers, which were clinging to nicely muscled, long, pale legs. Not a moment too soon, the task was complete, and the Slytherin kicked free of the offending clothing, now standing in front of the Gryffindor in nothing but a pair of black, satin boxers.

"Right then," he said, deciding to take charge of the situation. "Your turn."

The next few moments allowed Harry to live out one of his fantasies; Professor Snape was undressing him in the middle of the potions classroom, with the intention to bend him over his desk and give him the shagging of a lifetime. Again, Harry's erection jumped in anticipation.

Another wry grin from the Potions Master's clone. "Eager are we, Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived almost melted. _Add saying 'Harry' seductively to the list_, he thought. "Mmm…" he responded, sounding somewhere between pleading and complete ecstasy.

Draco put his –or, rather, Severus'- hands on Harry's now-bare shoulders, fuelling the flames of the boy's lust even more. Somewhere along the lines, their lips met, and they kissed with ferocity, both realising that this would be the last time they connected in any form of physical manner -bar the odd fistfight on the Quidditch Pitch. This would be the first time Draco would be allowed to take Harry over a desk, and it would also be the last. That was the deal that they had made a month earlier, and neither of them intended on changing the rules.

This night was for them to both achieve what they'd desired, and to let go of it at the same time.

One night to rid themselves of the tension and unwanted feelings that they'd each built.

One night to say goodbye to the men they knew that they could never have.

One night. No regrets.

Harry woke up the next morning, sticky and sore in places he didn't know existed. He grinned to himself, remembering why he felt that way, and why he was currently sprawled across the floor of the replica potions classroom on a relatively bright Saturday morning.

The previous night, to him, had been fantastic. Draco had played the perfect role in his sick and twisted fantasy, as only a true Slytherin could. He had been rough, and careful all at the same time. Just as Harry imagined the real Severus Snape would be.

He sighed.

If anything, the plan to be shagged by his professor and get it out of his system had just backfired on him.

The crush was definitely not out of his system.

If anything, it had returned with gusto, and the images of his previous night's activities left Harry achingly hard once more.

Looking around, and realising he was alone in the room (and thus deducing that Draco must have snuck out earlier that morning), he gripped his erection and worked himself to completion, all the while thinking about Severus' hands on his body, and his length filling him to the hilt, making him cry out in passion with every thrust.

With a strangled cry –much like the one he had issued last night when he and Sev…_Draco_ had reached orgasm in almost perfect sync- he came all over himself, and slumped back against the cold dungeon floor.

Yes, the crush was still there, but it didn't mean he regretted a thing about his and Draco's deal.

No, he'd quite enjoyed it actually.

Except, he decided upon pondering the night further, the stickiness. _That_, he knew, he could have done without.

Retrieving his wand from underneath his pile of clothing, he muttered a low-level cleansing charm over his body, and threw his robe over himself, coming to the conclusion that he needed a shower.

"There you are!" Hermione exclaimed later that day, when Harry eventually ventured down to the Great Hall for lunch. "Where _have_ you been!" She demanded.

He shrugged, and reached for a bread roll and some butter, "Around."

"Around _where_, Mate?" Ron prodded. "When you didn't come back last night OR this morning, we got worried. You could have been anywhere-"

"I was in the Room of Requirement." Harry snapped, utterly irritated by their smothering. "I needed some space. I can take care of myself. I don't need to tell you where I am twenty four hours a day, seven days a week."

Though they looked hurt by his outburst, the other two Gryffindors nodded.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said quietly, "We just care about you…"

He sighed, "No, it's alright. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. I've just been…preoccupied."

"Anything we can help with?" The bushy-haired know-it-all asked gently, fearing another verbal attack from her best friend. She hated seeing him upset, and hated not being able to help him even more.

He shook his head. "No, it's just stuff I have to work out for myself." As he reached for a leg of chicken, he completely missed the look of concern exchanged between his friends.

"So," he started, sounding overtly cheery, "What have you guys been up to today?"

Another month or so passed, and Harry felt ill. If he were to be completely honest with himself, he hadn't felt right at all since that night with Draco, although the changes to his health were far subtler then. He'd had troubles controlling his spell casting in Charms and Transfiguration, and his magical input for his Potions and Herbology had been lacking. Now he felt sick to the stomach, and overtired; symptoms he'd been feeling for a week on end, at the very least.

Perhaps he'd somehow contracted the Wizard's Flu, he thought numbly as he stepped into the shower, allowing the heat of the water to sooth his tense muscles. All signs seemed to point to yes.

He sighed, and turned the taps off, wrapping a towel around his waist before stepping out of the shower and back onto the bathmat. With little amount of deliberating during dressing, he came to the conclusion that he should take a visit to Madame Pomfrey. If he _did_ have the flu, or some other variant of it, she'd be able to fix him up almost immediately.

"Hey, Mate." Ron greeted him sleepily in the hall, making his own path to the showers.

"Hey," he returned half-heartedly, as a dizzy spell washed over him. He reached out a hand and pressed it against the nearest wall for support. The action seemed to wake his friend up.

"You alright?" The redhead asked, sounding incredibly concerned. A trait passed down from Molly, no doubt. "You look a bit like shite." Alright, maybe not quite like Molly.

Harry managed a wry smile. "Gee, thanks, Ron."

"I'm serious, Harry." The other boy kept on, "You really don't look your best today."

The raven-haired boy shrugged him off. "Nah, I'm fine, really. Just a spot of the flu, I think."

"If you're sure…" Ron looked uncertain, and clearly didn't want to leave his friend's side by this stage.

"I am." Harry replied. "Just on my way to Pomfrey now, actually. Hoping she can fix me up. Make me good as new and all that." He attempted a grin, and failed miserably as the world continued to spin.

"Alright…" Ron nodded, and slowly turned to go back on his way to the bathroom. He spun quickly back around at Harry's moan, though, and only just managed to catch the other boy as he fell to the ground in a faint. He sighed, "_Sure_ you're fine," he said sarcastically to the unconscious young man in his arms. "Wonder why I didn't see that _before_."

When he got no response, he sighed again for emphasis, and attempted to scoop Harry up properly. It proved easier than he would have initially imagined. '_Does he EAT?'_ He thought to himself, before taking off towards the Infirmary.

His shower would have to wait.

Poppy Pomfrey looked up in surprise as the infamous redhead barrelled into the hospital wing, carrying a pale, unconscious Harry Potter in his arms. Dear Merlin, _what_ had the boy gotten himself into this time?

"Alright, Mr Weasley, explain." She said sternly, as she gently levitated Harry to the nearest bed with a flick of her wand.

The redhead took a few breaths. "I bumped into him outside the showers –he'd just had his, and I was on my way for mine- and he looked ill. He said something about the flu, and visiting you, and then passed out. I only just caught him. He's rather light, too. It can't be healthy."

"Indeed," she said, casting a minor spell to assess Harry's vitals. "Mr Potter's always been of a slighter build to most young men his age-" she told his best friend, frowning slightly at the readings she was receiving, "-for reasons that I can't disclose. However, that said, he seemed to be gaining health and weight over the past year or so…"

Ron nodded. "We noticed that as well." At Poppy's questioning glance, he flushed. "Hermione and me, I mean." He clarified. "We were worried about him."

"How so?" The medi-witch never removed her gaze from her patient.

"Like you said…he never really looked all that healthy…but he was getting better. 'Mione said something about late growth spurts…" He shrugged, "Anyway, this last month he's been flagging a bit. Not eating all that much, looking green half the time…"

"You're a very observant friend, Mr Weasley."

Ron went red again. "Like I said; we worry about him. Both 'Mione and me."

"Of course," she turned to give him a small smile. "Other than earlier, did he give you any other indication that he really didn't feel well?"

"Er…" The conscious Gryffindor squirmed a little under her intense gaze. "I think he mentioned something about his magic being a bit weird a while back, as well. 'Mione put it down to stress. What with the end of year exams coming up in a couple of days now…."

"Miss Granger is a very smart girl," Poppy mused, nodding. "Though I suspect Harry was closer in his assumption that he might have the Flu, if the other symptoms you've described are in any way connected to the wavering of his magical energy."

The redhead nodded. "Right, well, he'll be alright if I leave him here, then?" Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him, and he blushed. "Right, stupid question." He chuckled nervously, "Sorry."

Shaking her head, the medi-witch smiled and led the boy back out into the corridor. "Mr Potter will be fine, Mr Weasley. Now run along, you do not want to be late for breakfast."

At the mention of food, the youngest Weasley male grinned and practically raced down the halls. With a sigh and another shake of her head, Poppy turned back around and headed towards her patient's bed, where Harry was beginning to stir.

"Well, Mr Potter," She began, her tone business-like once again, "Welcome back to the Hospital Wing."

The Boy Who Lived looked around at his surroundings. Knowing the medi-witch's tendency to fuss over every little thing, she'd more than likely try to keep him in for the day. He groaned.

"Oh, don't complain." She reprimanded, reaching for the magi-quill and parchment that had taken down his vitals. "You only have yourself to blame, you know. Had you come to visit me the very instant your symptoms started-"

"-I'm sorry, Madame Pomfrey." He sighed, "I know."

She narrowed her gaze at him. "Then what was the problem?"

"I've spent too much time in here over the years," he admitted, "I try to avoid it at all costs." She glared at him, and he swallowed, fidgeting under the intense gaze. "Not _you_, Madame. Just the infirmary."

She sniffed, as if he'd just insulted her. "That's ridiculous, Mr Potter."

He had the grace to look sheepish. "I know. Sorry."

"Indeed," she replied, still sounding rather curt. She looked down at her notes, pointedly. "Well, Mr Potter, it appears that you do not have the flu, or any variation of it."

"Oh," he looked puzzled, "but…what else could be wrong with me?"

She frowned in concentration, and re-read his symptoms. "There are any number of ailments you might have contracted," she told him, still not looking up from her clipboard. "I have to run another more complex spell, and it should narrow down our possibilities." She brandished her wand again, and waved it over Harry's body, her eyes closed.

When her eyes opened she looked down at the Gryffindor, "You've been sexually active recently." She said.

He felt his cheeks burn, but nodded anyway.

Her features softened. "Dear," she began gently, the caution in her voice scaring Harry to no end. "I believe you're pregnant."

He blinked a couple of times, before laughing outright. "Very funny, Madame Pomfrey…"

She moved to smooth down his hair in a motherly gesture of affection. "Harry, this is no laughing matter."

The Boy Who Lived's laughter subsided at the seriousness of her tone. "But…I'm a _boy_." He insisted. "I don't have the _equipment_ to get pregnant."

She winced. "You're a _wizard_, Harry. A wizard with a lot of magical feminine energy coursing through your veins, due to the spell your mother cast when you were an infant yourself." She sighed, "It doesn't occur often –there's only been one or two recorded cases in the last few decades- but it has been known to happen. The residue of the female magic in your mother's spell has manifested itself in your body to _create_ the necessary equipment…" She trailed off, noticing his glazed over expression. "I'll explain it all another time."

Harry nodded mutely, as the thoughts rushed through his mind. He was pregnant. _He_, The _BOY_ Who Lived, was pregnant. A child. A baby. Inside _HIM_. He already knew he was going to keep it. He couldn't go through with an abortion; he'd always wanted a family, and he knew that magical abortions were dangerous for witches as they threatened the woman's magical energy levels if not done properly, so he assumed it was even more dangerous for pregnant wizards. But…he was so _young_. He'd barely had a chance to live life as a normal teenager, and now…now he was even _less_ normal and was losing control over his life once more.

Merlin, what had he gotten himself into _this time_?

Poppy watched as the various emotions flew over Harry's face, and knew the exact moment that he'd accepted the news and chosen to keep the child. "Do you know who the father is?" She asked after another minute or so, bringing the young man back to reality.

He looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes. Oh, Merlin's Balls, what was Draco going to say when he found out? "Yes…I…he's the only one since…I mean, it's been _ages_ since…then he and I…But he's been the only one this year..." He shook his head, still in a state of disbelief. It could _only_ happen to him. "I didn't know we could…If I'd known…"

She cut him short with a wave of her hand. "It's alright, Dear. I understand." She paused a moment, "Would you like me to run a diagnostic test, to determine the health of the child and confirm the paternity?"

Harry thought for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah…" he croaked out, "I think…I think that'd be best…"

He glanced down at his flat, if not finely toned, abdomen and sighed before she pointed her wand and muttered another incantation. Soon words started appearing on the parchment held in Poppy's hand. Firstly, the words _Harry Potter_ appeared beside the space labelled '_**Maternal Father**', _causing the Boy Who Lived to ponder over the strangeness of the title,before both he and Madame Pomfrey gasped at the name that appeared beside '_**Paternal Father**'_.

There, written in Madame Pomfrey's perfect calligraphy, sat the words _Severus Snape_.

"That's…shit… that's impossible." Harry spluttered for a moment, and soon felt the world around him fade to black as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N – Okay, guys, what do you think? I look forward to what you have to say regarding the story. Yes, I **did** steal my own idea from 'Escapology' (another one I have to repost) regarding the reason for Harry's ability to get pregnant in the first place. I was rather proud of the uniqueness of the explanation back then –I have yet to read another fic using the same idea- and felt that I had to use it again here. (It was easier than making something new up! LOL) 


	3. Stupid

A/N – I'm sorry about the delay with the update…Real Life has been interfering again. That, and I've been preoccupied with _The Tension and The Spark_ (which, I promise to those of you who are following it, will be updated very soon). I'd hoped to update them together, but writer's block got in my way and delayed _Tension_, and I sort of put it all off. Which was wrong. So I'm apologising profusely, and I hope against hope that this chapter makes up for the long wait. Let me know.

_**

* * *

**_

To say that Poppy Pomfrey was shocked was an understatement.

Severus Snape.

Severus Snape and Harry Potter.

_Together_.

It was incomprehensible.

Naturally, she'd heard the rumours of young Mr Potter's…_feelings_…for Hogwarts' resident Potions Master –Merlin, _everyone_ had-, but never in a million years would she have believed the older man capable of allowing something to develop between himself and a student.

_Especially_ **this **student.

And yet, the cold, hard evidence was staring her in the face.

She sighed and glanced at the parchment once more, before waking her unconscious patient with a vial of smelling salts. Once Harry came to, she narrowed her eyes at him, her hands firmly on her hips.

"Care to explain, Mr Potter?" She asked, her tone curt.

His cheeks coloured, "I never slept with Professor Snape." He blurted out. "I know it looks like it, but you _have_ to believe me…"

She arched an eyebrow. "Do I?"

Harry nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. "M'me Pomfrey, _please_. I can explain…" He paused, "I think…"

"Go on." She prompted, still not softening for him. She was genuinely worried. A relationship between student and teacher was definitely not acceptable at Hogwarts. Harry could be expelled and Severus…Severus _would_ lose his job.

The green eyed boy sighed, "Alright…So it started a couple of months ago…"

The Mediwitch sat back and listened as Harry launched into his tale. She shook her head sadly as he reached the conclusion –that was; the fact that he was now sitting in the infirmary pregnant to his Potions professor, despite the fact that they'd never even looked at each other without malice. The Boy Who Lived sniffled, and turned away from her as silent tears fell down his cheeks.

"Well, Harry dear," Poppy began, passing him a tissue, "It is my duty to inform the staff of your condition." He looked panicked and she smiled softly at him, "It has to be done, child. To ensure your safety. And the safety of your baby."

The Gryffindor teen nodded his understanding. "You won't tell them about Snape?"

She shook her head. "No, dear. It is your choice as to whether you want people to know the paternity. However, Severus himself deserves to know. Despite the strange circumstances, he _does_ have the right to know he will be a father." Before Harry could protest, she gave him the final blow, "Which is why you will inform him of your condition yourself."

"What!" The Boy Who Lived lunged into a sitting position.

"Harry-"

"NO!"

She glowered. "Mr Potter! You alone are responsible for your actions. Not Mr Malfoy. Not anyone else. Just you. And, for that reason alone, it is _your _duty to inform Severus that you are pregnant and that the child is his. _How _you choose to do so is up to you, though I expect you to have told him before the beginning of your seventh year. The other professors will be informed this evening-"

"So he'll find out that I'm pregnant by tonight anyway." Harry finished glumly. Poppy nodded, and he sighed. "How am I supposed to tell him it's his?"

She shrugged. "You'll work that out when the time comes." Deciding that the conversation was over, she moved onto other important issues. "Now, we must discuss your dietary requirements…"

Harry groaned and fell back against his pillow.

It was going to be a _long_ day.

**-?-**

Severus Snape snarled at the parchment on his desk.

He was frustrated.

For the past few months, he'd become increasingly aware of a pair of emerald green eyes watching his every move. When the news of Potter's little crush had reached him, he'd been initially shocked (hell, he had even _chuckled _at the thought!), and then he'd become more pissed off with the brat than ever before.

Naturally, once the information had seeped into his brain, Severus had ignored the sodding Boy Who Lived wherever possible, in the hopes that the lack of any form of acknowledgement would throw the boy's attention off.

And it _had_ worked.

Or so he had thought.

For a blissful month, Harry -the pain in his arse- Potter had stopped watching him. It appeared that the brat might have even found another avenue for his affections. (Of course, Severus hadn't been able to distinguish who the next _lucky_ man was…not that he was interested in Potter's affairs, of course.) But then, as suddenly as the lack of infatuation had begun, it vanished, and in its place were a pair of bright green eyes, drilling into the back of Snape's neck worse than ever before.

It irked the potions master.

After all, _why_ would the damned brat want _him_?

Perhaps it was simply a case of lusting after that which he knew he could never have.

That thought made sense.

Harry Potter was Severus Snape's polar opposite. He was Gryffindor and Severus was Slytherin. Potter was student and Snape was teacher. Harry was young and Severus was…_mature_.

They were from rival families. No Snape and Potter had ever gotten along. Surely the brat knew that this scenario was no different, especially considering the Potions Master's past with his father.

Not that any of it mattered to Severus, really. All that concerned him was how to get rid of the brat. With all the wizards and witches lusting after the damn boy, it shouldn't be hard for the kid to find someone else to set his sights on.

Even if he was a stubborn, foolhardy Gryffindor.

A stubborn, foolhardy Gryffindor whose potions skills (or lack there of) were decaying more and more each passing day.

Closing his eyes, and pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape attempted to shift his thoughts on to something –_anything_- other than Potter.

It didn't work.

With a guttural growl of frustration, Severus swiped at the papers on his desk, sending them flying. Why couldn't he stop the brat from haunting his every waking moment? He spun angrily and glared at another stack of parchments, lifting his arm to attack them as well, but halted his actions at the sound of a timid knock at his door.

"Enter." He snapped, brandishing his wand and ordering the scattered papers on his floor to rearrange themselves back onto his desk. Once satisfied the mess was cleared, he turned stiffly to come face to face with the very object of his angered thoughts. "Potter," he hissed, arching his upper lip in distaste. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your company this evening?"

The Boy Who Lived frowned slightly, and looked towards the floor. "Sorry, Sir." He said meekly, piquing Snape's interest. After all, it wasn't like the boy to be so despondent. He would usually be snapping right back and losing himself hundreds of house-points in the process.

"You have yet to answer my question." Severus drawled, his tone dangerous.

Harry forced himself to look up at his Potions Master. '_I'm a brave Gryffindor,'_ he told himself firmly, '_I wont let him see me weak.'_ Swallowing, and summoning up the remains of his courage, he began the spiel he'd been rehearsing all afternoon. "I'm sure you noticed my absence from class this afternoon…"

Snape nodded. "Indeed. I received notice from Madame Pomfrey as to your whereabouts, thus you need not worry over the loss of house-points." He sneered, "Though if you do not leave my personal office within-"

"I'm pregnant." The boy blurted out, throwing his carefully prepared explanation to the wind and cutting the older wizard off in the process.

Severus fought the urge to splutter. Maintaining his cool outer resolve, he quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." He paused, "And how, exactly, does that concern me?" He knew that Poppy had probably sent the boy to tell him for issues of health and safety in the Potions classroom, however he longed to make the boy squirm.

He watched as Harry blushed, and shuffled his feet nervously.

"I…well you see, sir…Madame Pomfrey thought it best that I tell you because-"

He was interrupted by a tall, blond, speeding Slytherin. "Professor Snape," Draco huffed, racing past the Gryffindor, not even noticing his existence. "There's been a-" suddenly he came to the realisation that he and the Potions Master were not alone. "Potter?"

The raven-haired boy's eyes widened in horror. Oh, Merlin, If Draco had heard him…He swallowed audibly, and greeted the younger Slytherin with a nod. "Malfoy."

"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco sneered, whilst sizing his former lover up. To the Slytherin, Harry looked incredibly pale and sickly. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"I'm looking directly at _you_," Potter shot back, "So, I'd say that explains it."

The blond scowled, but was prevented from retaliating by Snape's hand on his shoulder.

"Mr Potter, I believe I have heard all I need to." He said silkily, "I will…accommodate… for your situation in class." He motioned towards the door, and nodded dismissal. "Good evening."

The Boy Who Lived looked slightly panicked for a moment, and hesitated in leaving. He had promised Poppy. It was, after all, his responsibility to let the professor know. And yet, here he was, being given the perfect opportunity to escape a potentially humiliating scene for the moment.

"Good night, Professor," He eventually responded, nodding towards the older man, and then the blond Slytherin. "Malfoy."

As he strode out the door, attempting to look calm and collected, he could hear their voices behind him, discussing a Slytherin foul-up in the potions lab.

Harry sighed.

If only his problems were that simple.

**-?-**

"Oi, Mate, where've you been all night?" Ron's voice assaulted him the second he entered the Gryffindor Common Room. " 'Mione and me went to the hospital wing when you didn't come down for dinner, and she said she'd let you go."

"We were terribly worried." The bushy haired girl put in, furrowing her brow to accentuate her concern. "Ron told me about this morning-"

Harry smothered an exasperated sigh and told himself that his best friends meant well. He plastered a not-entirely-convincing smile onto his face. "You really shouldn't worry…" he began, "I just…I needed to speak to a professor about…something."

Hermione was, as Harry should have predicted, immediately interested. "Oh?" She asked, her eyes lighting up, "Who? And about what? Are you _finally_ taking on some extra credit research?"

He coughed. "Er…I guess you could say I've gotten myself a few more responsibilities…"

She trilled and hugged him. "Oh that's _brilliant_, Harry! It's about time you really applied yourself! I was beginning to worry about how you were going to become an auror…"

Harry, who had been nodding along to her babbling, froze and narrowed his eyes. "What?"

She seemed to have caught her slip a little late, and attempted to back peddle. "Oh, that's not what I meant…"

"Oh no? Then what _did_ you mean, Hermione?" He snapped. She blushed. "Oh, I don't believe this!" He threw his hands into the air, angrily. "Some day I'm having. First all that crap with Pomfrey and Snape…and Malfoy…and now I find out that my own best friend thinks I'm stupid-"

"-I never said that!" She protested, before realising what else he'd said. "Harry," she said softly, placing a hand on his upper arm, "What happened with Madame Pomfrey?" He looked away, and she reached for his chin, pulling his face back, forcing him to come eye to eye with her. "You don't have Wizard's Flu, do you?"

Resignedly, the raven-haired boy shook his head.

"Then what-" Ron started. Harry cut him off.

"Not here."

Ron's puzzled look became one of understanding as the three of them had a silent conversation with their eyes, before Harry moved off to gather his invisibility cloak.

Once again, the trio was off to the Room of Requirement.

**-?-**

"Alright…" Ron said, seated comfortably on one of the plush couches of the mini-common room. "What's wrong, then?"

Hermione shot him a look. "Honestly, Ron, don't you know _anything_ about tact?"

"Nup."

"Urgh."

The two continued to bicker, leaving Harry time to plan out just how he was going to break the news to his two best friends.

'Guys, there's something I need to tell you…' 

No, that was too…cliché. Perhaps if he got straight to the point…

'Okay. So I don't have Wizard's Flu…but I have come down with a bad case of baby-itis.'

Er, definitely not. A tad corny for the situation.

'Have you two ever thought about having kids?' 

Vague and blasé. Again, not really good enough for the situation. Besides, Ron might think he was insinuating something about his not-exactly-existent relationship with Hermione…

"I'm Pregnant."

Silence followed his impromptu outburst.

_Oh, Bloody Hell, I hadn't meant to just **say** it. Again._

"What?" Hermione was the first to speak, eyeing her best friend worriedly.

Harry braced himself and repeated his dilemma, using various euphemisms to illustrate his point. "I'm pregnant." He said, his voice sounding rather shrill to his own ears. "Up the duff. Bun in the oven. Knocked up. I'm expecting. There is a baby-"

His female counterpart cut him off. "Alright. I've got the picture…"

Ron looked green, and chose to ask the very same question that Harry had earlier that morning. "But…_how_?"

The Boy Who Lived sighed. "Er…bit of a long explanation there…that's more or less 'Mione's department. Something about female energies and spells…"

"Right…" The redhead nodded, still looking rather bewildered. He leant back into the plush covers of the couch, and thought over his best friend's dilemma. His eyes widened as the knowledge that Harry would have needed a partner in order to get pregnant seeped into his brain. "Oi, mate…" He began cautiously, "Who'd you…y'know?" He made an obscene gesture with his hands, and Harry fought the urge to laugh.

He would have laughed, too, if he hadn't been dreading the question so much.

"Well, see, that's complicated as well..."

Hermione frowned. "How so?"

Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor, avoiding his friends' eyes. "Umm…I…well…" He stopped and took a deep breath. These were his best friends. The two people he was closest to in the entire world. They deserved to know. Especially seeing as they hadn't abandoned him at first mention of his little surprise. Forcing himself to look back into Hermione's eyes, he tried again. "I…I was with Draco…but he was under an Advanced Polyjuice to be Snape…and, apparently, the advancement serum he took was really strong, so, genetically, he was _all_ Snape when he…when he…" he couldn't quite bring himself to say the words 'came inside me'. Swallowing, he tried to soften the blow, even though he knew the attempt was in vain. "Well…the baby is Snape's."

"_WHAT_!" The know-it-all cried, sounding extremely scandalised. For once, Harry didn't fault her for the tone. "Harry!" She continued, "That's dreadful! It's _illegal_ to impersonate someone…But to become them completely and then create a child with their genetic material-"

The Boy Who Lived scowled. "That wasn't our intention."

"Don't you _ever_ think of possible consequences!"

"Oh, of _course_." The green-eyed boy spat sarcastically, "Because I _should have known_ that I'm a _complete freak of nature._" He sneered. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm a _boy_. How was I supposed to know that there was a possibility that being shagged would result in _me_ getting preggers?"

She glared back, exasperated, but Ron's contribution to the conversation prevented her from replying.

"So, let me get this straight…" The red head said slowly, "You let _Malfoy_…" he made a face, "er…_take you_…Only you got him to mix potions and pretend to be Snape…and now you're havin' the Greasy Git's kid, and I bet neither of them know."

Harry looked to the floor and nodded, mutely.

"Mate-" Ron's voice was tentative. Harry sighed.

"I know. It was stupid. And you're really sickened by the fact that it was Dra…Malfoy and-"

Ron sighed sadly, and shook his head. "No." At this, Harry fluttered his eyes, challenging his best friend, causing Ron to back peddle. "Well, okay, yeah…but that's not what I was going to say…" At his best friend's look of surprise, he drew himself up and extrapolated. "Look, you made a mistake. We, all three of us," here he looked pointedly at Hermione, "are known for it. And the last thing you're going to need right now is having us make you feel worse." He shot their female companion another look, and she blushed sheepishly, ducking her head to acknowledge the reprimand. The youngest Weasley male continued. "This…thing…it's going to take some getting used to, but we're best mates, and 'Mione and I will be here for you. We've been through worse together. And, just think-" he grinned, "- Your kid will be the first of a new generation of Mauraders; think of the irony. Snape's own kid working against him…"

"I don't…I don't want to turn it against him…I mean, it is his, after all." Harry sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. "How am I going to tell him? I have until the beginning of 7th year…but M'me Pomfrey wanted me to tell him today and I just…I _couldn't._ He's going to _kill_ me."

Hermione moved to his side and rubbed reassuring circles on his back. "Not if he wants to keep his child." She said, wincing once the words left her lips. Harry looked up at her, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "I didn't mean…" She sighed. "Professor Snape won't kill you, Harry. But I daresay he will be a little…_upset_ with you and Malfoy…"

The dark-haired boy closed his eyes and leant back into the softness of the couch, willing the entire situation to be a nightmare. '_Any minute now, I'll open my eyes, and I'll be in my bed in Gryffindor tower, and laugh at how insane the dreams were this time.' _He thought tiredly, whilst a sinking feeling at the bottom of his abdomen signalled that it was just wishful thinking.

"So, I s'pose that means you'll be staying here over the break, then?" Ron asked after a few minutes, bringing Harry back to reality. "You yourself said you'd never go back to your uncle's place after the battle…and we're visiting Charlie in Romania, otherwise I'd ask you to come to ours…"

The Boy Who Lived turned to Hermione, terrified of the prospect of spending the next few months alone. She looked away, a sad expression taking over her face as she shook her head gently. "Mum and Dad are travelling Europe…they've asked me to go with them…"

"Oh…right…" Of course; she'd been on about the 'educational value' of her trip for the last few months. Harry sighed, "Guess that leaves me here, then." He glanced at the clock and rose to his feet, Ron and Hermione following suit. "It's probably safer that way…There's still a few 'kill Potter' factions out there, at any rate..."

His best friends nodded morosely, and Ron patted his shoulder. "You'll be right, Mate. Speak to Dumbledore about it. He'll sort things out."

"Exactly," The female of the trio nodded, putting in her own two knuts' worth. "You won't have to go through the next few months and all the changes alone. He'd never let that happen."

Okay, so they had a point. Harry nodded. "Alright…Anything's better than being alone for it…" He chuckled, the laugh sounding hollow even to his own ears. "Merlin, even spending time with Filch sounds better than doing the next few months alone…"

**-?-**

"What?" Harry found himself yelling early the next morning. "No! Being alone is better than staying with…with _him!_"

"Really, my boy, Severus' company is quite pleasant outside school hours." The Headmaster said, by way of placation.

Harry had just had the dreaded talk with the old coot, and things weren't looking good for him. Oh, sure, Dumbledore had congratulated him for the unexpected turn of events, and assured him that it wouldn't greatly affect his schooling, but _then_ he had broken the news that he, Harry –The Boy Who Lived- Potter, would be spending his summer holidays at Snape Manor. With Snape.

"Sir, with all due respect…he and I _despise_ each other!"

"Really, Mr Potter?" The unmistakable voice of his Potions Master drawled from behind him. "I was under the impression that the feeling was not quite mutual, on your behalf." He was now within Harry's eyesight, and smirking wickedly. "Unless the rumours, which you never fought to deny, were untrue…"

The Gryffindor felt his cheeks burning, and sneered at the older man. "Momentary lapse in my sanity, _Sir_. Believe me when I say that I've long since recovered from that error in my judgement."

Severus' smirk never faltered, and he pointedly glanced at Harry's taut abdomen. "Indeed."

In that moment, The Boy Who Lived wanted nothing more than to punch that smug look off the older man's face. He merely smiled back, though, making sure to make the look appear as innocent as possible. '_Oh, Severus Snape,' _he thought wickedly, '_if you only knew, you wouldn't look so proud of yourself.' _His thoughts paused for a second before adding, '_Of course, you may want to throttle me to death…but that would be understandable enough…'_

The Headmaster clapped his hands together, apparently delighted with the fact that neither wizard had hexed the other yet. "Well then, I believe it's settled. Harry, you may leave. I wish to speak to Severus in private. I expect you both to meet here half an hour after the carriages have departed at the close of term. Good luck with your exams."

Accepting the dismissal, Harry thanked Dumbledore, nodded coldly in Snape's direction, and then made his way back down the stairs.

"Hey, Potter!"

The Gryffindor stopped short in the corridor and turned slowly to face the owner of the voice. "Malfoy," he sighed. "What do you want?"

"A good luck kiss for the game tonight?" The blond grinned wickedly, "After all, you'll need it this time."

Harry felt compelled to cry. He'd had to withdraw from the team due to his condition, leaving Ron to make up an explanation, and handle the abuse. And, to make matters worse, the deciding game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was that night.

"Not a chance." He eventually replied, squashing his emotions. "Besides, I'm not playing tonight." Or ever again, it seems.

Draco's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and genuine concern. "What? _Why?_"

Despite their continual bickering, both boys knew that they were the other's only real competition. For Harry to refuse to play in the deciding match signalled that something was definitely wrong with the boy. He was giving away the game _and_ the cup.

To _Slytherin._

"Potter," the Slytherin prompted when the other boy remained silent. "_Harry_," he tried again in desperation, "Why are you throwing away your chance at the Cup? I mean, if you're not playing, it's not even worth Slytherin getting out there and trying."

"Was that a compliment, Malfoy?" Harry half-smiled.

Draco smirked, "Don't get used to it, Potter." There was a brief span of silence before he asked once more. "But, honestly, why-"

"Pomfrey would kill me if I got on a broom now."

"And why is that?" The blond narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Surely the Flu-"

Harry's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was sick of lying. "-I don't have the Flu, Draco."

"Oh?"

"Listen…the walls have ears here…let's walk…"

The strange pair made their way down the corridors in silence, before exiting the building altogether. Minutes later found them sitting by the lake shore, where Harry picked up a couple of flat pebbles and proceeded to throw them so they skipped across the water's flat surface, leaving small ripples in their wake.

"Alright, Harry," Draco finally spoke, leaning back against a tree trunk. "You were saying?"

The Boy Who Lived stared out across the water. "I'm…shite this is hard…promise me you wont go telling the entire school?" He turned pleading eyes onto his former rival. The blond was taken aback by the vulnerability the other young man was displaying and nodded, waiting upon the explanation. Harry swallowed and turned back to watch the Giant Squid. "I…well…_apparently_, I'm going to be a father."

There was silence from behind him, and he cautiously peered around to come face to face with a confused-as-all-hell Malfoy.

"But…You're gay, Potter." Draco said slowly, "And how does you getting on a broom effect the fact that you put your bun in some chit's oven?"

"Um, maybe I should have phrased that better…See," Harry sat down beside the other boy, and fiddled with a few tufts of grass, "I…um…I'm going to be a father…in the sense that I'm going to be a mother." The blond looked even more puzzled. Harry sighed. Perhaps simply blurting it out like he had on the previous two occasions was his best bet after all. "I'm pregnant, Draco."

"You're…" What little colour was left on the pale boy's face disappeared. "Oh, Merlin…Did I…is it mine?"

Harry winced. "Yes, _you_ did… but, on the same token, no, it's not."

A bit of the old Draco was back in an instant. "What the bloody hell are you on about? How could I have gotten you up the duff and then have it _not_ be mine?"

Well, at least he wasn't asking how Harry had managed to conceive in the first place.

The Gryffindor sighed, "Remember the advancing serum? _Apparently_ it was really strong. You were _all_ Snape. Right down to your…erm…little swimmers."

Draco was too stunned to comment on Harry's display of naivety. "Fuck."

"That's pretty much where this started."

"Don't get smart with me, Potter."

"If I had been _smart with you_, Malfoy, I wouldn't have agreed to your stupid plan in the first place."

"I didn't hear you complaining during the act."

Harry blushed, and still attempted to scowl. "And yet, I'm complaining now."

"It's a bit too late for that."

"Don't you think I _know_ it is!"

The Boy who lived slumped back against the tree, and ran his hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "He's going to kill us both, you know. And I don't know how to tell him. I mean, I have to spend all summer at his Manor, _with him_…I'm completely screwed."

Draco smirked. "I do believe you said it before, but allow me to reiterate. _That's where this started_."

"Oh, shut up."

**-?-**

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore was thanking his Potions Master for going above and beyond the call of duty in taking Harry Potter under his wing for the holidays.

"I must say, Severus," the older wizard admitted, grinning from ear to ear, "that your generous offer caught me off guard last night. It is not exactly a secret that you and our young Mr Potter have had a rather rocky teaching relationship in the past."

Snape indulged the Headmaster with a small smile as he sipped his tea. "Indeed. However, the boy _did_ tell me of his…condition…on his own merit, rather than waiting for Poppy to deliver the news in the staff meeting later in the evening; an action which struck me as odd."

"Ah," Albus nodded, sagely. "So you have taken it upon yourself to monitor the child. Is this another pet project, Severus?"

The Head of Slytherin shrugged easily. "An old spy needs _something_ with which to entertain himself during the usually boring months."

"And I daresay Harry will keep you on your toes."

Severus nodded gently, and set his attentions back to his tea, allowing his gaze to wander around the cluttered room. He shook his head at the many sleeping portraits, and wondered how any of the old fools ever managed to run the school if they were so prone to exhaustion, before moving on to study the various knick-knacks lining the shelves. The sword of Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat, a quill made out of what he suspected was Fawkes' tail-feathers…The list went on. Movement on the grounds, as could be seen through one of the tower's windows, soon caught his hawk-like eye, and he lazily turned to inspect the scene with a bit more detail. Upon closer inspection, he almost spat out his tea in surprise.

After all, he was certainly not expecting to see Potter and Malfoy lazing by the lake, involved in a rather serious –and civil, by the look of it- conversation.

"Spotted something interesting, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, smiling happily.

"Quite…" Snape stood and moved towards the window, casting a magnifying charm for a better view. "It appears that Misters Potter and Malfoy do not dislike one another to the extent that we have always assumed."

Predictably, Albus' eyes twinkled. "Is that really so surprising?" He asked, "The two are not without their similarities."

"Indeed. Although, I do believe that it was their similarities which caused them to clash so violently."

"Perhaps they've just matured, my boy." The Headmaster patted his former pupil on the back fondly; "I seem to remember you and James putting your differences aside at the close of your schooling."

Severus shot the older man a withering glare. "At your request, Albus. Malfoy and Potter are voluntarily in company with one another. The situation is without precedent."

"The threat of Voldemort is gone, and both boys have proven where their loyalties lie…With his father unable to control him, Draco has been able to reinvent himself…" Albus summoned a sweet to his hand as he spoke, "And Harry is a good person; he believes in second chances."

The Potions Master shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Albus, your ramblings are sickeningly sweet…" He glanced back at the grounds, "And you overestimate your students. Potter and Malfoy are natural troublemakers. The notion that they are getting along worries me. Merlin only knows what sort of schemes they are developing."

The headmaster chuckled, "It may be true that I have occasionally overestimated students, however, more often than not, you _underestimate_ them, Severus. The two boys might have developed a genuine friendship and could be merely discussing Quidditch…" His eyes twinkled merrily, "And, in his new-found condition, I trust that Harry will no longer be willing to put himself in danger with any mischievous behaviour."

"I will put nothing past Potter, nor Malfoy." The Slytherin huffed, thrusting his aquiline nose into the air. "And I will continue to observe them, until I discover the exact cause of this bizarre behaviour."

Dumbledore laughed at his former student, and nodded as a means of humouring him. "If that is the case, Severus, I wish you all the luck these holidays." He grinned, his bushy white moustache twitching with amusement, "For I am certain that young Mr Potter will keep you entertained, to say the least."

Severus lifted his cup to his lips and smirked slightly. "Indeed."

**-?-**

The next few days flew past in a blur. Harry prayed for the time to slow, as he was not looking forward to bidding farewell to his friends and spending months with Severus Snape. But, unfortunately, the time evaporated in front of his very eyes and soon enough, he was standing on Hogwarts' stone steps, clinging on to Hermione for dear life.

"Please don't go," he begged, tears inching their way out of his eyes, "I can't do this…I need you…_We_ need you."

This emotional ploy, he had found, worked wonders with his female friend, who had fallen head-over-heels in love with the thought of Harry's baby. She mothered him constantly, and always made sure that he had everything that he _and_ the baby needed.

This time, however, the attempt to emotionally blackmail the know-it-all failed.

She shook her bushy head. "I'm sorry, Harry. Really I am. But I _have_ to go. You will _both_ be perfectly _fine_ with Professor Snape. And it will give you time to get used to one another…especially with _you-know-what_…" She glanced down at his abdomen, pointedly. "You might find that you actually get along with him, if you give him a chance."

"Before he kills us, you mean." Harry replied angrily. This response proved to be a mistake as it caused Hermione to plant her hands on her hips and launch into a lecture about decisions, actions and accepting their consequences.

"-and you _know_ very well that you have nobody to blame other than yourself for this, Harry," she was saying, waving her hands about as she spoke, echoing Madame Pomfrey's initial sentiments. "And you simply _can't_ blame him if he gets a little…upset with you. Merlin only knows _I_ would be, if I were him. You're in no position to deny him the right to that sort of reaction. And you are _definitely_ not in the position to be angry at him for _anything_."

The-Boy-Who-Was-Beginning-To-Regret-Living sighed. His friend was right. She was always bloody right. Often to the extent of being an insufferable know-it-all, just as Snape had termed it all those years ago. However, Harry knew she didn't mean to hurt him or put him down. She was simply acting in his best interests, really, by refusing to allow him to wallow in self-pity. By reminding him of the harsh reality of the situation that he'd gotten himself into.

Still, her attitude irritated him.

"I know," he eventually said, his tone somewhat cold. "_I'm_ the one who fucked up; figuratively and literally. And I've got enough to remind me about it _every **single** day_, **without **listening to you remind me time and time again in that holier-than-thou way of yours."

The bushy haired girl was tearing up, and, on some level, he felt guilty for hurting her feelings. But it wasn't enough to make him stop his tirade. Oh, no. He felt abandoned. He felt lonely. He was misunderstood, always the outcast and was always being condescended to. Especially by one Hermione –sodding- Granger.

"You know all the answers to everything, don't you?" He continued, sounding incredibly snide. "But, really, you don't. You don't have the faintest _clue_ about how I _feel_. How I've _ever_ felt. You don't know what I've had to endure-" she moved to protest and he held up his hand to silence the attempt. "No. For once **you** will listen and **I** will talk."

She clamped her mouth shut, and he felt encouraged to keep going.

"You don't know what it's like to grow up in an abusive household, see freedom and then have to go back every year whilst _other_ kids get to spend their hols with loving, caring people. And you _really_ don't know what it's like to continuously lose the people you love-" he thought of the parents he never had the chance to know, the Godfather who died practically by his own hand, and the members of the Order who died trying to protect him, "-over and over again. You don't know…" he took a breath, as if considering the rest of his rant, "anything of any importance, really. All books and facts, you are. Nothing substantial. Nothing _real_."

She was crying now, and, though he knew he'd caused her pain, he couldn't begin to regret his outburst. He couldn't bring himself to apologise. It would be useless. After all; he had meant every word he'd said, despite the fact that he could have softened the blow a little.

"Well," she managed to choke, rubbing furiously at her eyes, "Now that's settled, I know at least _one_ thing of **practical** value," she spat the words, and her eyes –now devoid of tears- flashed with anger and pain, "I know to stay out of your business from now on. You'll not have to worry about my meddling in things I don't understand anymore."

And, on that note, she turned swiftly on her heel and clambered into the nearest thestral-drawn carriage.

Harry, still recovering from the release of so much pent up emotion, watched her leave, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye.

As the carriages left the grounds, and his anger subsided, the Gryffindor felt more miserable than ever.

Then the overwhelming feeling of remorse kicked in, causing his knees to buckle under the pressure of a guilty conscience. And, in that moment, he felt as though he would have given anything to take those horrible things back…to make her pain go away.

And so it was no surprise, then, that he was sobbing when Snape eventually came and found him curled up in a ball, having howled for the earth to open up and swallow him, begged for Hermione to come back and soothe him, and prayed for his unborn child to be taken away, so that he may never have the chance to hurt them like he inevitably did everyone else.

* * *

A/N- Well, then, off you go…Press the little 'review' button…((GRIN)) All jokes aside, I really do appreciate the fact that you are still reading and reviewing this one, as it has been posted so many times...I've lost so much valuable feedback over the years because of it, so it fills me with warm fuzzies to still be receiving reviews for _Afterglow _even now. Tthank you allfor keeping me motivated to repost it. I'd have given up years ago had it not been for your continued support. 


	4. Drifting

A/N- Thanks again to those who are reviewing…Your feedback is really helpful as I go through and edit. So, for all your patience, here is another chapter!

* * *

"Potter!" Severus hissed, gliding down the large stone steps menacingly, "Cease your snivelling this instant! Did it ever occur, in that thick scull of yours, that the headmaster set an appointment for a reason?"

At the older man's voice, Harry slowly raised his head. His emerald eyes, usually filled with warmth and cheer, lacked life. "I'm sorry, Sir. It wasn't my in-" he hiccoughed, "-tention to be a b-b-burden…" He closed his eyes, and allowed a tear to trickle down his face. Reining in his emotions, he shook his head sadly. "It's all I've ever been, I know…"

Snape sneered back down at him, internally shaken by the brat's current demeanour. However, the child _had_ to know that he wouldn't receive any sympathy…not from the potions master, at any rate, which led Snape to the almost shocking revelation that perhaps this was a cry for help. And if _that_ were so, would he, Severus -The Greasy Git- Snape, give it?

Not without a fight.

"I demand you stop your selfish wallowing," he snapped, dropping to the younger wizard's level. "There is no point to this disgraceful and painfully humiliating display." He was, of course, referring to _his_ humiliation at having to wilfully _talk_ to the little sod.

Naturally, he pushed aside the notion that he had wilfully proposed that he be the Gryffindor's guardian for the summer break.

Harry attempted to control the sobs that were once again causing his entire body to shake, and forced himself to look at the potions master. "I'm so sorry," he managed to breathe, before another bout of tears escaped, "I'm so sorry…"

"You'll definitely be sorry if you do not end this foolish behaviour and return to Headmaster Dumbledore's office with me." The response slipped through Severus' lips without a second thought.

_No,_ Harry yearned to scream, _I won't be. I can't be. There's no possible way I could be any sorrier than I am right now._ However, all that he managed was a strangled yelp and a shake of his head.

"Oh for Merlin's sakes, Potter…" The Head of Slytherin sighed, realising that the only way to calm the upset young man down would mean humiliating himself, "You're not doing yourself or your unborn child any favours while you continue to behave in this manner." He spoke softly, sounding almost as if he _cared_ whether the Potter brat and his spawn were healthy in all respects.

Harry's cries died in an instant, and his eyes widened in what could only be described as shock.

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Was it really so surprising that he could be gentle and considerate? Another glance at the dumbstruck look on his student's face confirmed that, yes, actually, it was. With another sigh, he continued to play '_Sentimental Snape'_, making a mental note to threaten the brat into promising never to mention the day to anyone.

"I am not a tyrant, Potter, contrary to what you might believe, and, should you feel the need to discuss an issue which is bothering you these holidays, I will not turn you away." And, as long as the brat turned back into his headstrong self, he would never have to honour that promise.

Harry's thoughts, meanwhile, were far from gaining in confidence or positive energy. In fact, as Snape spoke to him, an even stronger sense of guilt flooded his senses. After all; the man was destroying his 'evil git' image in order to help him, The-Pain-In-Snape's-Arse Potter, feel better.

_This_ was the real man that Harry had fallen for, despite the fact that he had never witnessed him in action. He'd known, on some strange level, after witnessing the man's slight softening in the classroom, that Snape _was_ a nice person at heart. And he'd gone and ruined any chances of ever befriending the man, due to his and Draco's _illegal_ fling. Not only that, but he knew that his unborn child would be deprived of another parent, and not even an evil, cruel git of a parent either! But one who would most likely be loving, gentle and caring (if Snape's current behaviour was anything to go by) under any 'normal' circumstances.

Another torrent of tears fell from Harry's eyes as that last thought seeped into his brain. He'd ruined his child's life before it had even begun; all because he'd been selfish. All because he'd wanted to fulfil his own egotistical fantasies. All because he'd longed, _for just one moment_, to feel wanted and _needed_ by the one man who would _never_ look at him in any way other than contempt.

_But he's not looking at you contemptuously **now**, is he?_ The little voice in Harry's head decided to interrupt, causing the teenager to glance across at the man whose genes his child would be sharing. _No, he's not. And he **will** listen to you. Said so himself._ It was true…but then, Snape had no way of knowing what exactly it was that was upsetting Harry the most. And once he found out… He shuddered to think of the reaction he'd receive. Not that he didn't deserve it, mind you. But would he look past Harry's foibles and not misjudge and mistreat the child that would be genetically his own? Probably not. However, that didn't mean that Harry shouldn't at least _try_ to make amends. Which would, of course, begin with him apologising for this embarrassing behaviour, and then attempting to get on with the rest of the holidays.

Sniffling, and blushing, Harry swallowed what he could of his sobs and forced himself to meet Snape's calculating gaze. "I…I'm sorry, Professor…" He struggled to get up from the floor as he spoke, "I don't know what came o-over me…" Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to appear calm and collected. "I don't deserve your kindness," this part, he felt, was the most truthful, "and I promise I'll make this all up to you at some point…" He had a _lot_ to make up for. More than Snape could possibly realise. "A-and I swear I…It wont happen again."

Eyeing the boy cautiously, Severus reared himself back up into full height and nodded coldly. "Indeed." He turned swiftly, moving gracefully into the castle, "Come along then, Potter. The Headmaster has been forced to wait long enough."

**-?-**

Harry sighed, and sat down on his bed. Snape had already shown him the manor and the grounds, however briefly, and had clearly stated the areas which were strictly prohibited. And, despite the size of the estate, it had barely taken the potions master an hour to rush Harry around the property, issue commands, then hide away in his private study, leaving his student to "entertain" himself. And entertain himself he did, with thoughts of Hermione, and Ron, and whether either of them would ever speak to him again, for surely Ron would have been informed -numerous times- on the train home, about how callous their supposed 'best friend' had been.

Harry let out a sob. He was, once again, feeling miserable and guilty. Hermione had every right to be angry with him, and he wouldn't blame her if she really did choose to ignore him, but the mere thought of that happening brought tears to The-Boy-Who-Lived's eyes, and caused his chest to constrict in the most painful way. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course. After all, he'd been positively _awful..._and he didn't really know _why_. His hand slowly drifted to his abdomen, and he began rubbing it subconsciously.

Then a thought struck him. Could his outburst have been hormonal? _That _made sense. After all, he'd certainly been moodier since he fell pregnant...but he'd never connected the two together until now. Oh, how he hoped Hermione would also realise it!

_Of course she will! _The voice inside his head chirped. _How long have you known her to hold a grudge without first looking at the situation logically?_

He had to admit, his brain had a point. But he'd make sure to owl her an apology anyway, just to be on the safe side.

**-?-**

Severus sat at his desk, a scowl marring his face. He was frustrated. Frustrated with Potter for behaving in a worrying manner and frustrated with himself for actually caring. What in Merlin's name was it about the brat that intrigued him so bloody much? It certainly wasn't the Gryffindor's personality, nor was it his behaviour or even his current predicament. No, it was something the Slytherin couldn't pinpoint, and that alone was driving him insane beyond belief, which -of course- was the epicentre of an ever-maddening cycle.

He'd even tried _conversing_ with the brat, for Merlin's sake! This growing preoccupation with the younger wizard's health and safety was preposterous! Why should he, Severus -Potter Is The Pain In My Arse- Snape give two knuts whether the boy was happy or not?

_Because you've let him get under your skin_, his mind answered, _that's why._

And, as testament to his growing insanity, he rolled his eyes in response to his internal monologue.

Of -bloody- _course_ he'd let Potter in under his skin. What he _really_ wanted to know was _why._

"Master Snape, sir..." A small voice interrupted his musings, "I is very sorry to bother you..."

The wizard glanced across at his elf. "What is it, Kreeper?" He asked mildly, observing the fidgeting creature expectantly.

Kreeper wrung his hands together nervously. It was not a good sign. Snape's worst suspicions were confirmed when the house elf next spoke. "It is Mr. Harry Potter, sir...He is not telling Kreeper why he is sad...He is not even telling Kreeper how to make him more comfortable!"

_The poor child_. Snape's inner voice drawled sarcastically. _Yet another ploy for attention, no doubt._

He sighed. "Do not bother with Mr Potter, Kreeper," he told the elf, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. "He is not... well... at the present." The Slytherin held up a hand to silence the elf's attempt to speak. "And, no. There is nothing you can do for him as of yet."

Kreeper's ears drooped, signalling his sadness and defeat. He looked up at his master shyly, a question playing on his wrinkled lips. "Will Mr Harry Potter be getting better?"

Severus allowed a small smile to grace his features. Kreeper was such a spoilt house elf; he'd been given a proper uniform and had always been treated kindly...Snape's own mother had even offered him wages! And so it was no surprise, then, that the elf felt he had freedom of thought and action.

"In time, Kreeper, he will be fine."

The Potions Master's thoughts drifted to his late mother whenever he spoke to the house elf. She'd truly respected the creature...Snape was certain that she'd even considered Kreeper one of the family! His fond smile broadened. His mother had been a gentle soul. He'd never really understood how she'd 'connected' with his father.

His father.

Severus scowled. The man had been an absolute tyrant. He'd been arrogant, demanding and mind-numbingly abusive. Then again, he _had_ been a true Death Eater. One of the original first circle, to be precise.

Snape shuddered at the thought.

After all, he knew what the position entailed. He'd been there numerous times himself. For Dumbledore's Cause. It angered him to think that his own father had _willingly_ partaken in the ruthless rape and murder of countless Muggles and Muggle-borns alike. That he had _enjoyed_ such behaviour.

Therefore, it wasn't really all that hard to believe that he'd ended his own wife's life without a second thought. That his mother had died by her husband's hand, after she'd discovered the shocking truth.

Then he'd had the audacity to demand that Severus -then merely 16 years of age- 'dispose' of her remains.

It had been this incident which had pushed the young Slytherin into a life of espionage. Everything he'd done for the Light, he'd done for his poor mother.

"Is Master Snape feeling alright?" Kreeper's hesitant voice interrupted his musings for the second time that day.

He glanced down at the elf. "I am quite well, Kreeper, thank you."

The house elf heaved a sigh of relief. "That is very good to know," he replied, his ears flapping with the merry bobbing of his head. "Kreeper worried Master is also being unwell, like Mr. Harry Potter."

The Potions Master allowed himself a small smile at the elf's naivety. Certainly, Kreeper did not know the details of Potter's 'illness', but it was vaguely amusing that he assumed Severus might also contract it.

"Rest assured, Kreeper, that there is absolutely no possibility of myself contracting Mr Potter's _unfortunate _affliction."

In fact, he'd surrendered -many years earlier- to the notion that the Snape line would die out with him. It had, of course, pained him at first, when he'd realised that he'd have to live his life alone, as any partner he chose would be in constant danger...and he couldn't promise that he'd return from his missions in one piece, if at all. A life like that would not have been fair on another soul. And now it was too late.

Or, at least, he felt it was.

At 36 he was still young, especially for a wizard, it was true. But he'd become accustomed to being alone. Not only that, because he knew he could learn to share his home, but he knew what others thought of him. He knew what they saw him as. A Death Eater. A man no better than his father before him. So he kept to himself, weary of anyone who showed even a vague interest in him, often reverting to his cruel, snarling persona -the one his students knew well- in order to ward any possible suitors off.

Pulling out of his reverie, Severus realised that the elf was still babbling at his side. "...That is being very good...Kreeper is always saying to the other elves that Master Snape is never being unwell...Master Snape was always being a very good boy..."

The wizard sighed, and shook his head. "Will that be all, Kreeper?"

The elf eyed him critically, and he cursed the memory of his mother for allowing the creature too much freedom at times.

Severus sighed.

"_What_?"

"You _is_ going to talk to Mr. Harry Potter, _isn't you_?" The should-be servant's tone was accusing, as if he knew his master would ignore his young charge's obvious anguish.

Which he most likely would have done.

"Yes, Kreeper, I will go and speak to Potter." He narrowed his own gaze, and remained unsurprised when the elf ignored the stare. "Have you no work to do? I was under the impression that the owlery was still in need of repairs."

Mumbling, Kreeper vanished, leaving Severus pondering exactly _how_ he was supposed to cheer the bloody brat up.

**-?-**

Harry sighed as he rolled the completed parchment up, hoping against hope that Hermione would actually read it, rather than throw it away in her anger.

He closed his eyes, and attempted to ignore the wave of guilt that threatened to overwhelm him.

A knock at his door shook him from his stupor. He knew it was Snape. After all, he was the only other person in the manor, and the house elves, as Harry had discovered, did not knock.

"It's open, Sir."

The potions master entered, his eyes scanning the room before finally settling on the young wizard. "I trust you've found your accommodations acceptable."

Harry nodded in response, offering the Head of Slytherin a small, but genuine smile. "It's wonderful, Professor. I've never stayed anywhere this..." he struggled to find a suitable word, "...elegant." A blush tinted his cheeks, and he looked away, feeling sheepish and moderately ashamed. "I don't deserve your hospitality."

"Indeed." Snape quirked an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"

"Let's face it, Sir," The Gryffindor forced himself to meet the other's piercing gaze, "I've never been exactly pleasant to you..." The older man scoffed, as if to stress the under-exaggeration. Harry frowned and continued. "And it's not as though either of us gave the other a chance. And I don't particularly blame you, after seeing what my father was like." He looked to the ground. "I would have hated me too, in your position."

"I do not _hate_ you, Potter. Not any more, at any rate." Severus felt compelled to be honest with the younger man. He seemed genuinely bereaved for his behaviour, and for his father's before him. Something which he, himself, could identify with, and it startled him.

Harry shook his head, "But I deserve it...To have you despise me, I mean. I've done so many stupid, cruel things..." His hand drifted to his abdomen, unintentionally catching Snape's attention. Unaware of the older wizard's stare, he continued to babble. "And I'm really sorry for looking into your pensieve last year...I shouldn't have...and I don't expect your forgiveness...I just ask that, regardless of everything I've done wrong...and everything my dad did, you won't hold it against ou-" he corrected himself quickly, "_my_ child."

Snape sighed. He knew it had been wrong of him to judge the boy by his father, not that he'd openly admit it, of course, but he would start the mini-Potter's existence with a clean slate. "You have my word, Mr. Potter."

The boy heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Professor Snape."

An invisible smile tugged at the corner of the Slytherin's mouth. He'd discovered part of what he found so intriguing about the brat.

Potter wore his heart on his sleeve, but wasn't afraid to fight for something he felt others needed. He was foolhardy, but still had enough cunning to manipulate a situation in his favour. And he was eerily sensitive, but would always throw the parting shot.

Harry Potter was a Slytherin in a Griffindor's clothing.

He reminded Severus of a younger version of himself…without the Gryffindor's clothing, naturally.

Perhaps discovering his secrets wouldn't be so difficult and draining after all.

**-?-**

"Professor," Harry found himself asking two weeks into the holidays, "Would I be asking too much of you if I were to ask you to look over my Defence essay?"

They were sitting in the library, vaguely comfortable with each other's presence. It was true they had fought numerous times already, over trivial things, but the two were slowly building a positive relationship, of sorts. This pleased Harry, as he was determined to get the Slytherin to accept their child as his own. And it pleased Severus, as he was determined to uncover the Gryffindor's secrets.

Snape raised an eyebrow in his charge's direction. "Are you prepared for my criticism?"

"I've put up with that for 6 years now, Sir. And I assure you it is nowhere near as...harsh… as Hermione's."

Ah, Hermione. He hadn't yet received a reply. He tried to tell himself that she was most likely too busy enjoying her trip, but, deep down, he was worried, and his guilt gnawed at his insides.

Severus watched as the boy's face fell, having mentioned his female companion. He'd barely spoken of either the know-it-all or the Weasley boy, and when he _had_, an air of sadness seemed to overcome him.

_Not all is well in paradise._

He cleared his throat, and pinned the younger wizard with a glare. "Perhaps you find Miss Granger's style of critique more hurtful because her opinion actually matters to you?"

The Gryffindor appeared to consider this. "I s'pose...But, despite what you might think, your opinion has mattered a bit in recent years...Even if you were a bit of a-" he caught the warning in his professor's stare, and finished quickly, "-bully."

"Indeed, Potter?"

There was something in the way he spoke that made Harry blush. "I've respected you for a while, actually...I mean, long before..." He left the sentence hanging, not particularly wanting to admit his crush outright, despite the fact that he already had.

Snape, on the other hand, decided to push the boy further. "Before your _lapse in sanity_, Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened upon hearing his own words used against him. He felt awful. "Sir...I didn't mean...Well, I said it to be spiteful..." He'd turned a deep shade of crimson, but forged on. "But it wasn't really a lapse...It was probably when I was most sane..." Again, without meaning to, he put his hand over his stomach, "I...it wasn't a lapse. Never will be."

And, on that note, he leapt up from his seat and fled to his room, leaving an incredibly perplexed Potions Master in his wake.

**-?-**

"Potter," Severus knocked at the boy's bedroom door the next morning, "I am aware that you do not wish to speak with me...However, it is unhealthy to remain locked up in your rooms..."

Not only that, but it was upsetting Kreeper, which was the _real_ reason he was once again making a fool of himself.

He waited for a response, but received none. His impatience growing, he rapped on the door once more. "Potter, if you do not answer me at once, I will not hesitate to break down this door."

Still, there was no sound of life emanating from the room. He tried the knob, and the door swung open easily. Scanning the room, he found that his young charge was nowhere to be found.

"Potter?"

There was a faint moan from the bathroom.

Following the sound, Severus soon found Potter on his knees in front of the toilet. He looked dreadful; a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and causing his hair to fall flat against his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot, and were shadowed by dark circles.

Overcome by a wave of sympathy, Snape moved to the boy's side, and summoned a damp washcloth from the basin. He held it out to the younger wizard, who shot him a small, but grateful, smile.

"Thankyou," Harry croaked, mopping at his brow and the corners of his lips. Then, without warning, another bout of nausea hit him, and left him dry heaving over the porcelain bowl once more.

Severus was uncertain as to what he should do next. He felt the urge to comfort the boy, but it went against everything he'd taught himself, and everything that he felt he was. Potter continued to retch, and Snape could see the tears threatening to spill from the boy's eyes. He was torn. Then, before he knew exactly what was happening, his hand was rubbing gentle circles on Potter's back, in an attempt to relax the boy's aching muscles, and perhaps, on some level, offer some support.

He felt Potter still in surprise, before he leant back into the comforting touch.

Harry closed his eyes, not wanting Snape to see him any weaker than he already was. He refused to cry. His throat burned, his back ached from being hunched over for so long, and his stomach, having nothing left to throw up, was churning in the most painful way. But he wouldn't give in.

Suddenly there was a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles, settling his aching muscles, reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

He leant into the contact. Savouring the familiar touch. He didn't know how long it would last, so he committed every second to memory, wishing the strong arms would envelop him and hold him tight.

The nausea abated.

He opened his eyes, and reached for the washcloth again, cleaning himself up a bit.

The hand left his back, and he wanted to cry at the loss of contact.

Forcing himself to look at his host, he was surprised at the concern lacing the obsidian orbs staring back at him.

"Thank you," he managed, his throat constricting with his emotions, and burning further. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he attempted to blink them away. "I'm sorry, Professor…"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus sighed, and, not knowing how to respond, let his reply escape from his lips without a second thought.

"It's Severus, Harry."

* * *

A/N- I will apologise for Severus' OOCness…but I love _Sentimental Snape_ so much…and he wasn't _terribly_ Out Of Character…only a little! LOL…I promise you, though, as in any HP/SS romance-type fic, it'll only get more OOC…

Ciao for now,

PLEASE review


	5. Train Wreck

A/N: Wow! More fantastic responses! You guys are amazing! So, for your patience, here is another chapter! And, for those of you reading _The Tension and The Spark_, I assure you, I will update soon. Uni has just been hectic, as I'd expected. Give me another week or two, and the next chapter will be up then. In the mean time, Happy Reading!

* * *

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Severus was also in a state of shock. He hadn't meant to be so...there was no other word for it..._familiar. _But the damage was done. And, he supposed, it would make associating with the boy (and his secrets) that little bit easier.

He swallowed (not used to being so bloody nice), hoping the younger wizard wouldn't notice his hesitation, and rolled his eyes. "I said," he began, sounding as if it were a chore, "That my name is Severus. Yours _is_ Harry, is it not?" The boy's name felt odd to his tongue, but he refused to let that on.

The Gryffindor nodded slowly, his body tingling at the sound of the Potions Master speaking his name. He felt privileged to have been asked to reciprocate the favour. After all, he didn't know of many people that were allowed to call Snape by his given name. It seemed that he really was becoming friends with his Professor, and the thought made him smile.

"Thank you, Sir...Severus." He felt himself blush. "And I'm sorry you had to witness _this_..." He gestured between himself and the toilet. "But thank you for helping me..."

Severus nodded, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. He didn't particularly like this meek, constantly apologetic Potter. Though he supposed it was a welcome change to the obnoxious version he thought he'd known so well. "Are your..._symptoms_...always this violent?" He eventually found himself asking.

Harry shrugged as he stood up to brush his teeth. "Not really...It jumps around a bit...M'me Pomfrey says its nothing to worry about...That male pregnancies are prone to stronger symptoms because our bodies aren't built to handle it..."

"Indeed..." The older wizard replied, once again at a loss for words.

"That was the worst it's been, though..." The Gryffindor continued to babble, the blush returning to his cheeks. "I...I'm glad I wasn't alone for it..."

_Yes_, Severus mused, _I suppose it would be rather trying to go through such an ordeal without one's partner, or at least one's friends._

This, of course, piqued the Slytherin's curiosity further, so he decided to pry a little. "I imagine such an experience would be difficult to handle on one's own."

Harry sighed dejectedly. "I was The-Boy-Who-Lived, though, wasn't I? So I should be able to cope."

He didn't sound too convincing.

"Your… _partner_… didn't take well to the news?" Snape sounded vaguely surprised.

Harry managed a weak smile, and shook his head. "That..." He paused to consider his phrasing. "It's complicated..."

Alright, now Severus was more than curious. Now he _needed _to get to the bottom of things. He quirked an eyebrow. "Care to explain, Harry?"

The boy was internally panicking. "I don't want to waste your time with my whinging..." He hoped he sounded nonchalant.

Severus conjured a glass of water and extended it towards the boy, shaking his head. "Need I remind you of my earlier promise?" He asked, referring to the incident at the opening of the holidays. "If an issue is distressing you, I am willing to listen, and perhaps offer my counsel, if it is of any assistance."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes. Snape, no; _Severus_, was being so kind...After all he'd done and all he'd said, Harry knew he didn't deserve such treatment. Not when he was harbouring such a deep, painful secret from the man.

He took a sip of water, hoping to still the onslaught of tears before they bubbled over, and looked to the floor. His throat burned. "The other father..." he began, sounding choked, "He...doesn't exactly know yet..."

"Indeed?" The potions master cocked his head to the side, letting his curiosity show.

The blush tinted Harry's face once more.

"I mean...he knows I'm..._expecting_..." He didn't know why, but at that moment, the word 'pregnant' was too hard to say, "But he's got no reason to think it's his..."

By now the men had wandered back into the bedroom, and Harry dropped onto the edge of the bed, allowing his head to fall into his hands. "I...he doesn't deserve to have this thrust upon him..." A lone tear trickled down his cheek, and he scowled at his own display of weakness. "It's all my fault!" He howled.

Setting aside his surprise at Potter's admission that the other father had no reason to suspect his connection to the unborn child (_Could there be more than one candidate?_), the older man frowned.

"Now see here, Potter," Snape interrupted, glowering over his student. "It takes two to tango, as the Muggles say. One person alone –no matter how powerful their magic- cannot create a child. Therefore it is _not_ your responsibility alone, nor is it fair for you to experience it without support. Besides," he sniffed, somewhat haughtily, "The other parent has the right to know."

"It's...a bit more complicated than that, though..." The-Boy-Who-Lived found his voice. He sighed. "I appreciate your concern, really I do, but...believe me when I say that this really is all my fault. And I wouldn't be surprised if the father of my child hates me once he finds out."

Perhaps he should take the opportunity to tell Snape right then and there, while he had the chance. He didn't want to, not now that he and the Slytherin were actually on friendly terms. But it wasn't fair of him to continue lying directly to the man's face.

"I do not know all the details, Harry, but if he is a compassionate soul, he will not turn his own child away, no matter what the circumstances behind its conception are."

Harry was so consumed by his woes that he completely missed the potions master's wistful tone.

"I hope so..." He murmured, eyes glued to the floor, his hand rubbing tiny circles on his stomach. "For his, or _her_, sake."

Snape straightened himself, and looked down his nose at the moping teenager. Folding his arms over his chest, he uttered one word.

"Indeed."

**-?-**

"Hurry it up, Potter," Severus found himself hissing a few days later, "We haven't got all day."

"Well, _technically_..." Harry began, grinning wickedly, "We do."

The older man scowled, "Don't try me today, Harry," he warned. The younger man's name fell from his lips with more ease than it originally had, and (though he'd never admit it) he was actually beginning to warm to the boy.

The Gryffindor frowned. "Sorry, Severus. Didn't realise you were in Greasy Git mode again." His eyes gleamed with mischief.

"And I didn't realise," Severus sneered in response, "That you had regressed into an irritating 13 year old."

"I wasn't aware that I'd become much else in your eyes to begin with." Harry poked his tongue out, feeling decidedly childish.

Damn hormones.

Speaking of which, Hermione had yet to reply to his letter. In fact, he hadn't heard from any of his friends. Not even the Weasley twins, who had, up until these holidays, at least continued to send him updates on their business, referring to him as their invisible partner.

On thinking of his friends, a wave of sadness swept over him. Perhaps they really had wiped him from their thoughts. He hated not knowing how they were and what they were doing. He missed them terribly.

Severus noticed the change in Harry's demeanour almost immediately.

"Potter?" He asked tentatively. "Harry?" He gently placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder, hoping to bring him out of his reverie. "Are you feeling alright?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived swallowed, and struggled to meet the older man's eyes. "Yeah, I'm right. Just...thinking." He mustered a watery smile. "Blasted hormones."

Severus wasn't utterly convinced, but let the matter drop. With a frown that didn't quite disguise the concern in his eyes, he asked, "If you are done wallowing, are you quite ready to honour Madame Pomfrey with your presence?"

Despite himself, Harry smiled. The Potions Master had been thoughtful enough to arrange a checkup with the Mediwitch through the headmaster. To cover his growing concern for Harry's health, however, he'd argued that it was merely practical, as he had to compile and complete his annual inventory analysis, and it was easier for Harry to visit the Mediwitch then, rather than disrupt Severus' schedule later on.

But, on some level, it warmed Harry's heart to think that Snape had been so thoughtful towards his needs.

"Ready as I'll ever be." The green eyed young man replied, his mood quickly brightening.

"Good." Snape nodded, extending his arm. "We will be apparating to Hogsmeade, where a carriage awaits to take us to the castle."

"Oh, alright..." Harry took the proffered hand nervously, and gasped as Severus pulled him flush against his chest.

Snape pretended not to notice the sound. He wasn't quite ready to acknowledge what it might mean.

"Close your eyes, and clear your mind of all thoughts." He instructed, mentally reminding himself that the younger wizard _did_ know the process of aparration, despite the fact that he hadn't yet had the opportunity to gain his license.

He pushed the thought aside, not wanting to risk splinching.

Within moments they were in Hogsmeade, and, when certain the boy was steady on his feet, Snape released him unceremoniously.

"Come along, Potter," The older wizard snapped, keeping up appearances in public. After all, it wouldn't do to be seen being _friendly _with the boy; especially by another student. Merlin only knew how fast the rumour mill worked at Hogwarts, and neither he nor Harry needed (nor wanted) more gossip concerning themselves circulating.

They approached the thestral-drawn carriage in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.

Harry, once seated, placed his hand over his abdomen, and stared out the window. He wasn't paying attention to the scenery as it flew past the window. No; instead he was deep in thought, wondering about his child.

Would the Mediwitch be able to tell him of its gender? What would he or she look like when they eventually arrived? Which traits would they inherit from him, and which from Severus?

All these questions -and many more- filled his head, and he wondered, idly, whether Severus would be just as curious, if he were to know the truth. Or would he see it as just another blunder from Harry Potter? Just one more nuisance to deal with. One more reason to hate the Gryffindor.

Harry sighed.

What kind of life was he setting his little one up for? He knew barely anything about parenting, having merely watched other children's families from a distance. And, though the Weasleys had taken him under their wing, the relationship hadn't been the same as it would have been, had he grown up with his very own parents.

How, exactly, was he to act around his child? How would he teach them? _What_ would he teach them? How would he discipline them?

It was so overwhelming.

"Mr. Potter," Snape found himself repeating, his frustration growing. The boy had been daydreaming for too bloody long! They'd been stopped outside the castle for at least five minutes already. He reached out and shook the boy lightly. "Harry, we've arrived."

The-Boy-Who-Lived appeared dazed for a second, before he reminded himself as to where they were and why.

"Oh," he replied sheepishly, "Sorry, I...was thinking."

"Clearly. And, while I wish you would practice that more often, _you_ have an appointment, and _I_ have matters to attend to." The Slytherin gracefully leapt out of the carriage, and -upon checking that they were alone- offered his hand to the other, which Harry gratefully took.

Snape helped the boy down the carriage's steps, before ushering him into the school. "I will accompany you to the hospital wing," he told his charge, "as I need to ask Poppy which potions and supplies she needs replenished."

Harry nodded, and walked beside the potions master, attempting to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

If only Severus was accompanying him out of interest for their child.

**-?-**

"Ah, Harry, come in! Come in!" Poppy had obviously been waiting for him. She smiled warmly as he approached, Severus a few steps behind.

Her eyes gleamed when she noticed the older man.

"And Severus! What a pleasant surprise!"

The Slytherin was vaguely confused by her behaviour, but put it down to the simple fact that the woman was, and always would be, a complete, raving lunatic. He nodded at her. "Poppy. I trust we find you well?"

She grinned, and nodded. "What good I be if I weren't?" She chuckled, reminding Harry of a clucking hen. "Afterall, who would trust an ill Mediwitch?"

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. She'd been using that extraordinarily lame joke for what felt like eons. However, before he could move onto business, she continued to babble.

"But, I must say, I am very pleased with you taking an interest in the baby's welfare like this. I imagined that, once Harry had told you, you'd want to avoid him and the child as much as possible, but, oh, how you've proved me wrong!"

Harry's eyes were the size of saucers. Pomfrey thought that he'd confessed! Oh, Merlin, he _had_ to stop her before she gave too much away…but _how?_

Poppy was still blathering. "Tell me, Severus, what names do you prefer? Not all that long, really, 'til he or she arrives, you know! I should be able to let Harry know the gender within a month or so…"

Harry was attempting to gain her attention, without catching Severus'.

It wasn't working.

Snape, meanwhile, was gradually plotting his escape. What in Merlin's name was the blasted woman rabbiting on about? And why on earth did she think he actually _cared_?

He cleared his throat, and settled her with a sharp glare. "What are you blathering about, woman?" He asked, choosing to cut to the chase, and voice his confusion. "I merely accompanied young Mr. Potter to the infirmary as he is my charge for the holidays, and I believed you had a list of potions and supplies that needed replenishment."

Somehow, Harry knew he was going to get roused at by one staff member or the other.

"Oh…of _course_…" Poppy managed, upon the realisation that Harry had not yet told Severus of his polyjuice mishap. She covered her slip with a sheepish laugh. "Oh, don't mind me, Severus…I'm just rather excited for young Harry here…" She turned and pinched the young man's cheek just a tad too hard for his liking. Forcing a grin, she added, "I've always had a weakness for infants…I tend to get a little carried away…" Shooting Harry a fastidious look, she turned back to the Potions Master. "I've got the list in my office…Bear with me for one moment…"

She turned quickly on her heel, and left the two men alone in uncomfortable silence.

Severus, for his part, couldn't help but feel slightly sympathetic towards Potter, if this was the way the Mediwitch was to carry on for the duration of his pregnancy.

**-?-**

Three hours later found the potions master staring at the parchment in front of him. Overall his inventory was just as he'd expected it to be. There were a couple of discrepancies –a few numbing draughts, various potions ingredients, and a bottle of his personally patented, and incredibly potent, Advancement Serum were missing- but all in all it had been a good year. Every other year his stocks had been remarkably out of count, but this year everything seemed to be in order.

Perhaps the extra wards on his supply and potions cabinets had been part of the reason for the drop in the rate of theft.

Well, that and the Weasley twins _had_ left school the year before.

Nevertheless, it was a good result, and he was pleased.

He met Potter in the library, as they had previously arranged. The boy was halfheartedly leafing through a number of pamphlets on pregnancy, and hadn't noticed the Professor's arrival. Snape ducked behind the nearest bookshelf, content to simply observe the younger wizard.

He'd maintain that it wasn't spying. No, he was merely reluctant to disturb his charge.

Or, at least, he'd tell himself that.

With a low moan, Harry tossed aside the last of the pamphlets, wishing whole-heartedly that he could set them on fire, before dropping his head into his hands.

His appointment had started terribly and gone downhill from there.

Madame Pomfrey had not been pleased with him, to say the least. Even less so, as she was still reeling from her embarrassing display. So, after giving him a good talking to, she gave him the silent treatment, and wasn't particularly gentle with a few of her metal implements, many of which Harry could have sworn she deliberately placed cooling charms on to add to his discomfort!

He wondered, idly, whether he could request another Mediwitch for the duration of his pregnancy, but knew that nobody would honour that particular request. Especially not once the truth came out.

He attempted to swallow the lump that had lodged itself in his throat.

Why did his life have to be so damn complicated?

"Hoo."

Harry raised his eyes slowly, to see where the sound had come from. When nothing proved to be the source of the sound, he sighed.

And now he was hearing things. Just bloody brilliant.

"Hoo."

Something attacked his foot.

"Hoo Hoo."

He glanced down in surprise, to find an ordinary barn owl nipping at his shoelaces. He hadn't seen the bird fly in, but then; he'd been a bit preoccupied.

At least he wasn't losing his mind.

"Hello there," He addressed it, bending down to pick it up. Placing it on the table in front of him, he untied the parchment from its leg. "Thank you."

It stared at him, and he thought wistfully of Hedwig, who had disappeared several weeks before the final battle.

"I'm sorry…I haven't anything to give you…" He showed the owl his empty hands. "But I do know that if you go to the owlery you'll find all sorts of scraps and things."

The bird gave him a sceptical look, but flew off anyway.

Harry turned his attention to the letter in front of him.

It was, he discovered, from Hermione.

His heart rate increased. Should he open it here, or wait until he was safely hidden away in his room at Severus'? After all, it could say any number of things, and he didn't want to risk the potions master finding him in a distressed state, as was highly possible, considering his recent mood swings.

He tucked the scroll away into his cloak, and set about picking up his pamphlets.

Severus decided that he'd seen all he needed to. He waited until Harry had turned away to retrieve a miscreant medi-pamphlet, and then made his entrance.

"All set to leave, Potter?" He asked, revelling, only slightly, at the boy's startled state.

Harry spun back around, his hand over his heart. "Don't. Do. That." He hissed, glaring back at the older wizard.

"My apologies," Snape replied silkily, "I didn't think The-Boy-Who-Lived would be so tense."

Green eyes drilled angry holes into mirthful obsidian orbs. "Why are you so bloody happy?"

Snape merely smirked in response.

"Come, Potter, I do believe it is time for lunch."

**-?-**

Harry sat alone in his room that night, anxiously observing the scroll in front of him. He hadn't yet opened the letter, afraid that it might confirm his worst fears.

"Is Mr. Harry Potter wanting anything from the kitchens?" Kreeper, the house elf, asked, bringing him out of his worried musings.

He offered the elf a small smile. "No thanks, Kreeper. I'll call if I do, alright?"

The elf glowered, eerily reminding him of Snape, before nodding. "That will be being okay, Mr. Harry Potter." He said, before disappearing with a _pop_.

His thoughts turned back to the letter in front of him, and he gathered his wits about him. Taking a deep breath, he unravelled the scroll.

Hermione's neat writing made him smile, though he had yet to read the words. It reminded him of hours curled up in front of a fire, studying her carefully written notes from class. He sniffed the paper, and was pleased to catch her perfume's scent. It warmed his insides.

'_Harry,'_

The letter began, and he lost his smile. There was no 'My Harry'. No 'Dearest Harry'. Just 'Harry'. He swallowed.

'_I received your letter. And, while I do understand the pressures of hormones (I experience something similar every month), I'm still hurting from some of the things you said. I know that you feel terrible, Harry, but that doesn't change anything that happened. It doesn't take it back, or make it all better. I still love you, Harry; you should know that. But I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive you just yet. _

_I realise that I'm being selfish, but I just need time to heal. If you truly regret what happened, you'll grant me that much._

_I hope that all is going well for you, and that you are both safe and well. _

_Regards, _

_Hermione.'_

Harry placed the letter aside, feeling awkwardly numb. At least she didn't hate him. But she wasn't exactly his best friend anymore, either. In time, they'd rebuild their relationship, but now he felt empty. Emptier than he had earlier, before he'd read the letter.

It made them seem so distanced from one another.

Which, he supposed, they were.

He sighed, and summoned a quill and parchment, deciding that he should reply, if only to let her know that he had received her letter.

Placing the tip to the paper, he froze.

What should he write? Should he be just as formal? Or should he spill out his heart to her, telling her of all the recent developments? Wouldn't the latter prove that he wanted her to know everything? That he _needed_ her input? Or would it make him look as though he didn't pay any attention to her wishes?

A knock at his door brought him out of his reverie. "It's open."

Severus entered and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Potter…" He sighed, internally cursing himself for what he was about to do. Though, technically it was Kreeper's fault. "Harry…" The boy turned to look at him expectantly. Damn that blasted elf. He had the mind the give the bloody thing clothes! "What, exactly, happened last semester between yourself, Weasley and the know-it-all?"

"I beg your pardon?" The Gryffindor was not impressed.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've been…_moping_…all holidays, and it is more than obvious that it has something to do with those two. So out with it. I will not stand to have my elves distressed because our 'guest' is clearly upset." He folded his arms and stared back at the boy.

Harry scowled. "No offence, Severus…but it's my business-"

"-Not when it's effecting my elves, and thus me."

When Harry refused to budge, Snape also glared. "You are forgetting, Potter, that I am a well practiced Legilimens, and can pry into your thoughts with or without your permission."

The boy paled considerably. "Alright…alright…fine. I'll whinge about my petty problems, okay, _Sir_?"

The older man remained silent.

Harry sighed.

"I…well, I snapped…at Hermione at the end of term. Told her to stay out of my business and called her all sorts of names…" He looked to the floor, ashamedly. "She was only trying to help me, really…I just…I don't know…I know I should have been able to control my reaction –hormones, or no- but I…couldn't. And now…now it appears that she and Ron aren't really on speaking terms with me."

Once he'd started talking, he couldn't stop. It was as if a great weight was being lifted from his shoulders with every word he uttered.

"And I feel terrible for what I said. I miss them horribly. And I feel as if I'm going through all this alone, when I wish I could have them there to at least write to and be reassured that everything will turn out alright. But instead I'm stuck here, being a burden on you, and feeling even worse because I've done nothing to deserve your hospitality, and I'm afraid that you're not comfortable sharing your home…especially seeing as you weren't happy to know of my feelings for you in the first place and I can only imagine how uncomfortable it makes you to know that I still do-"

His mind had caught up with his mouth and he stopped himself with a mortified gasp.

"I'm sorry, Sir…Perhaps I should just go stay at the Leaky Cauldron or something? Because, really, that's more or less all I need…and I'd be out of your hair…"

"Oh, Potter…" Severus was incredibly tired. Tired of being a tyrant. Tired of instilling fear into those that might possibly care about him. Tired of watching others tiptoe around him. Tired of being seen as an uncaring prick.

He was, simply put, tired of being tired.

"You are not a burden. I requested that you be my guest." He offered the younger wizard a small smile for his surprise. "And, I will admit that the news of your…_attraction_…did, at first, elicit a negative reaction. But, I assure you, it was not personal. I have never trusted a soul who showed any sign of affection towards me. Whether you still harbour feelings for me, or not, does not concern me. Nevertheless, I am vaguely flattered. However, you surely know that a relationship between us, while you are still at school, would be highly illegal. Perhaps when you're older…" he trailed off, allowing the Gryffindor a miniscule glimmer of hope. "Either way, I will not allow you to spend any amount of time at the Leaky Cauldron. It is still unsafe for you, despite the fact that Voldemort is gone, even more so considering your condition. You will remain a guest here, and, though I cannot promise that I will be a suitable substitute, until your friends come around, I am willing to listen to your _petty_ _whinging_, as you call it, if it means that you will cease your irritating sulking." A sly smirk crept across his features, and he felt compelled to add; "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to speak with Kreeper."

Harry sat back, shocked at the Potions Master's outburst. He was suddenly filled with so many conflicting emotions. In a way he felt glad that he'd opened up to the man, but in another he felt terrible, as he'd held back the most important (and distressing) information of all.

He didn't know whether to cry, or laugh, or both.

He'd become, essentially, an emotional train wreck, and he wasn't certain that anyone would ever be able to rescue him from himself.

Then he had an idea.

**-?-**

Over the next couple of weeks, Harry made sure to spend as much time as possible with the Potions Master, knowing that, when time came to return to school, he and Severus would definitely not be on speaking terms. This was certain to the Gryffindor, as by that stage he would have made his confession, and the older man would inevitably hate him, either for burdening him with a child, or for lying directly to his face for months on end, or both.

Harry was pretty certain Snape would take the latter option.

So he made the most of the remaining few weeks of the holiday getting to know the various sides of Severus Snape that he had only rarely received glimpses of.

And he had fallen head over heels in love with the man.

Which was not good.

Not when he'd resigned himself to being despised by the man for the rest of his life.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Snape was, unknowingly, sharing every important moment of his child's life. So far he'd supported Harry through bouts of morning sickness, many mood swings, fatigue, dizzy spells…practically every aspect of his pregnancy. Harry savoured those moments, often pretending that Severus knew the truth, and that he and Harry were together, emotionally and physically.

The Boy-Who-Lived knew it was wrong. He did. He just needed to fall back into the illusion every so often. Those were the moments he was the happiest. Those were the moments he felt he should describe to their child, should he or she ever ask about the relationship between their parents.

"Are you even listening to me, Potter?" The object of Harry's musings queried, cocking his head to the side. "Or does the carpet interest you more?"

The younger man flushed, having been caught in his reverie. "Sorry, Severus." He replied sheepishly, "What were you saying?"

The older wizard pinched the bridge of his nose, as he was prone to do when frustrated. "I was inquiring as to your preference for lunch, once we return from the infirmary."

Harry grinned. "Anything sounds good…Just nothing fishy…" He'd discovered that seafood didn't agree with his child the previous week, and the thought still disturbed him.

Snape nodded. "We'll decide on our return, then." He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

They were, once again, in the library of Severus' manor. It was slowly becoming Harry's favourite room. Ignoring the pang of sadness that came with the thought, he briefly wondered what Hermione might say if she knew. She'd most likely be proud of him for pursuing academics. He quirked his lips slightly, knowing that the only reason that it was his favourite room was the stunning view from the large window.

From it he could see the grounds of the manor quite well. There were lush, green hills off in the distance, reminding him of Hogwarts; the only home he'd ever known. Closer to the manor was the lake, all sparkling and clear -Oh, how he longed to swim in it!- and then the owlery; a cute little hut, resembling Hagrid's, made of brick and straw, which he loved to watch, in order to see the various birds fly in and out, in search of mice and mail.

"Potter…" Severus' voice intruded into his thoughts for the second time that morning. "It is about time we left."

Green eyes drifted to the clock. "Oh…right."

Harry lifted himself to his feet. Though he hadn't outwardly put on any weight, he could feel himself getting heavier. And, though it sounded rather odd, he liked it.

Fastening his robe, he accepted his host's hand, and took a deep breath when he was pulled against the older man's chest.

He loved Snape's scent. It was so unique. There was a vague aroma of sandalwood, blended with other spices which combined into a distinctly musky scent that was purely Severus.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled, waiting for Severus to apparate them to Hogsmeade.

In a matter of seconds they were in the village, and he was roughly pushed away from the potions master.

It was a ritual he was getting used to, now.

And, damn it all, he lived for it. If only to be held in Severus' arms for those few seconds.

They spoke about trivial things during the carriage ride. They always did. And then it was over within minutes, and they were trekking up the myriad of stairways to inevitably end up in the infirmary.

Poppy looked at Harry, making her usual silent inquiry, and he looked to his feet, dreading her tirade. It was not to come this time, however, as Severus elected to remain by Harry's side during the check-up.

Harry's spirits soared.

Poppy Pomfrey scowled to herself.

"Now, Harry dear, we're going to run the usual tests…" She babbled, shooting him pointed looks wherever possible.

He nodded, and allowed her to continue with her business, drawing in a sharp breath when her cold (_Probably charmed that way, too, spiteful woman_!) hands came to land on his bare abdomen. She poked and prodded, 'hmmed' and 'ahhed', then told him everything felt as it should.

Then she suggested the wizarding version of an ultrasound, to confirm her findings.

Harry nodded, and watched in awe as she waved her wand and a three-dimensional image hovered above his stomach. Various numbers and words appeared next to the blob-like creature, but he took no notice of them. His eyes were attached to the blob. That was his baby. That was his child.

"If you look closely, you'll see the beginnings of little hands and little feet," the Mediwitch told him, observing his reaction fondly, "As you are a male, the development is a little slower than it would be in a normal female pregnancy, but all is as it should be, I assure you."

Harry's eyes sparkled as he tore his gaze from his child. "Can you tell if-"

"Not yet, child," Poppy smiled gently, "But in a few weeks, perhaps we'll be lucky enough."

Severus, too, was curious. He'd never witnessed anything like this before. He'd never had the chance. He watched the foetus with interest, observing the small hands and feet, and the beginnings of tiny facial features. A small part of him envied Potter for having the ability to experience Mother Nature (and a tad bit of magical energy) at work inside him.

A hand gripped his own, and, startled from his thoughts, he looked down into watery green eyes. "Isn't it amazing?" Harry asked him, the emerald orbs flicking between his own and the hologram, "That…it's growing inside me…It's part of me…"

An invisible smile played on his lips as he observed his young friend –for that was what they had gradually become, and it had taken him completely by surprise- and nodded. "It is vaguely remarkable, Potter," he replied softly.

He watched as guilt flickered in the boy's eyes, and it piqued his interest. But, as fast as it had been there, it disappeared, and the awe had returned to Harry's eyes.

"I'm happy you're here to see this," the young man told him, his whispered voice wavering with unshed tears.

And Severus knew it was the truth. He supposed Harry needed someone to share the excitement with, and he appeared to be the only friend the child had at the present time.

That, in itself, could not have been predicted.

Did the boy wish it were someone else clutching his hand?

Most probably.

Snape was surprised at the pang of jealousy that accompanied that thought. He shoved it aside, refusing to acknowledge what it might possibly mean. He'd _never_ allowed anyone to invoke jealousy within him. Not since he, himself, was a 7th year student.

"And I'm happy to be here," He found himself replying, without thinking of the words. He did a double take at his admission, and found it was the truth. It alarmed him. How could one almost seventeen year old have effected him so?

He watched as the green eyes shone with happiness and pride and realised it no longer mattered.

He, Severus Snape, had made a true friend.

This was not someone who would manipulate him to do his or her dirty work. It was not someone who would physically abuse him. Nor was it someone who would take pleasure in taunting him.

It was, instead, another abused soul, searching for someone who knew what it felt like to be ostracised.

It was another broken young man in need of a friend.

And, in a stunning revelation, Snape realised that it was that fact above all others that had intrigued him about the boy to begin with. Yes, he'd been correct in assuming it was his similarity to Severus himself, but he hadn't realised how much so until that very second.

So it was, then, that the odd pair found themselves walking out of the infirmary with hundreds of thoughts on each of their minds.

They had both come to the conclusion that they needed each other, for one reason or another, and it was going to make for an interesting school year.

* * *

A/N- So, what'd ya think? I was rather pleased with this one, actually. Now we're actually getting somewhere!

PLEASE review!

Always,

Molvanian Queen-In-Exile


	6. Push

A/N- Well, I'm glad you are all enjoying it thus far! Sorry about the delay...I haven't really had many chances to use the net...However, you'll _all_ be pleased to know that, at the half way mark, my plan is finally coming together. Without saying too much, I'll tell you that THIS is the chapter you've been anxious to get to, for a couple of reasons. And it's a long 'un. Heheheh. Enjoy. (Notes are at the end, as per usual.)

* * *

The holidays were nearing their end. The next day would be Harry's birthday: the last day of his and Snape's holidays. He and Severus would return to Hogwarts bright and early on August the first, an entire month early, as the Professor had a year's worth of classes to prepare; a thought that upset the younger wizard terribly. After all, he would have to confess, preferably that afternoon, and spend his birthday being despised by the father of his child.

The man he'd grown to love.

He was glad, at least, that Dumbledore had provided the materials he'd asked for those few weeks ago, when he'd had his brainwave. For if he hadn't, Harry was certain that he wouldn't have had even the slightest idea how to explain everything to his potions professor. That wasn't to say he was prepared. No; he had no idea where he was going to begin...But at least he had a _vague_ plan...

"Are you quite ready, Harry?" The object of his affections queried from his side.

They were about to leave for another of Harry's check-ups. It would probably be Severus' last.

Harry swallowed. _No_, he longed to reply. _I'm not. I want to stay here, with you, forever._ However, the words that left his mouth were quite the opposite.

"Naturally, Severus," He plastered a smile onto his face. "She said she'd be able to tell, today."

That thought cheered him up a little. After four months of carrying the child, he was yearning to know its gender. He wanted to start preparing for his or her arrival. He wanted to spend hours thinking about names, and clothes, and nursery equipment. But, most of all, he wanted someone to do all of the above with. And not just anyone, either. No; he wanted the someone that had supported him thus far. He wanted the genetic father of his child. He wanted the man standing beside him.

Simply put; he wanted Severus Snape.

The man in question gave a close-to-invisible smile. "That she did, Potter. Thus, I suggest we get a move on." He extended his arm, and allowed Harry to settle in his embrace. There was nothing sexual about it; there never was. However, he knew by the younger man's reaction that it had become something of importance.

Perhaps it was merely the physical closeness that made Potter sigh as he did. He was, after all, starved of affection as a child. Or perhaps it was his lingering feelings for the potions master. It might even be a combination of both. Not that it mattered, really.

It wouldn't be _allowed_ to matter once they returned for the school year.

Snape cut his musings short, not liking the direction in which they were headed -and not particularly wanting to know _why_ they'd headed down that path, either- and focused solely on the apparation point.

That, at least, would get him into no trouble.

**-?-**

"There, you see?" Poppy was gesturing towards the hologram. "You can see her fingers and toes, and, I assure you, the foetus is not missing _any_ appendages." She beamed at the fathers (though one had yet to be informed of his impending parenthood) to-be. "A perfectly healthy girl, Dearies."

Ignoring the woman's pathetic sense of humour, Severus indulged in a small smile. Harry had his answer.

He placed a congratulatory hand on his young friend's shoulder. Harry reached up and gave it a gentle squeeze in response.

A daughter. They were expecting a daughter.

Neither payed much attention to Poppy's disapproving stare.

After the session, they made their way home, talking jovially about the news. Upon reaching Hogsmeade, Severus suggested a celebratory treat.

"Come and enjoy a Butterbeer," He said, pulling his charge in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. "My shout, in light of the good news."

Harry clutched the folder Poppy had given him, containing all of the information of his pregnancy to date, to his chest, and shook his head with a grateful smile. "Can I take up your offer another time?" He asked, "I...I'm not feeling that well."

It hadn't been a complete lie. He genuinely was feeling sick to the stomach. However, the cause on this occasion was guilt and anxiety, rather than morning sickness.

Severus eyed him critically. The young wizard _was_ a bit pale...

"Of course, Potter." He replied. "Let us return to the manor, then."

Harry nodded, and accepted the older man's hand. He was pulled, rather roughly for the sake of public appearances, against his chest, and then they were spinning through space and time, coming to land as they always had, just outside Snape Manor.

Severus made sure the younger man was steady on his feet, before letting him go.

"Thanks," Harry said, silently willing Snape's hand to remain on the small of his back.

Sadly, it did not.

Severus nodded, before leading the way into the Manor.

Harry sighed. He was going to miss this. For the very first time, he was dreading his return to school.

The place he'd learned to call home was now a fortress in his mind's eye. It loomed in his thoughts, promising nothing but solitary confinement and uncomfortable glances in the halls.

He didn't even know if Ron and Hermione would be part of the solution anymore. However, whatever the scenario, he hoped that they would not become part of the problem. He wasn't sure he could handle that. Especially if Snape chose to ignore him.

He followed Severus into the kitchen.

What _would_ become of _them_?

As he'd grown to know the older man, he'd stumbled upon many similarities linking them together. He knew that once he told Severus the truth, the man would be hurt. Oh, it was certain that he'd mask the pain with his anger, but he'd inevitably feel betrayed. Harry knew that, if placed on the same position himself, he would feel that way, too. But he also knew the man would refuse to hold Harry's actions against his own flesh and blood.

So, where would that leave them? Would Severus continue to accompany Harry to his check ups? Would he _want_ to play an active role in their daughter's life?

Or would he revert back to the days of ignoring Harry in the halls? Of taking house points at every chance, simply to satisfy his thirst for vindication?

Harry hoped for the former, but resigned himself to the latter.

"Are you unwell?"

Green eyes, laced with tears, slowly met concerned obsidian. Harry shook his head.

"No...I'm just...dreading what I have to do."

Snape cocked his head to the side, "Indeed?" He gestured for the younger man to continue.

A small, pained smile appeared on the Gryffindor's lips. "The baby...She deserves both parents..." Harry found that he couldn't meet his Professor's eyes. "So...I _have_ to come clean...Even though I'll lose my friend...I can't keep on lying like this. It's just not fair to..." He hesitated, and, his fear taking over, placed his hand on his gradually rounding belly, and averted his gaze in shame. "Anyone." He finished, lamely.

Severus, who had all but given up on unravelling the mystery surrounding his charge's pregnancy, sighed. "Potter," he began, falling back on the familiar title, as he had done so many times during the break, "Your lover cannot hold the right to despise you for being with child; _especially_ his child. Even if you had been caught in the arms of another-"

Harry snorted. If only the situation was that simple.

Severus chose to ignore the sound, and spoke on; "-The _only_ thing he has the right to be upset over is your decision to keep the information hidden from him, and, in doing so, deprive him of a truly important experience."

The man's dark eyes narrowed as they bore holes into emerald. Snape's voice, when he spoke next, was low and dangerous. It sent unpleasant shivers down the teenager's spine. "You have deprived another man of key moments in his child's life already. You'd do well to inform him immediately. Whether you wish to remain friends should no longer concern you."

As Harry stood there, absorbing the Slytherin's demeanour, he knew that this would be a moment that would plague his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Severus was right, though. He'd been selfish long enough.

Swallowing his pride, and gathering his courage, he prepared himself for the tongue-lashing of a lifetime.

"Severus," He started, attempting to maintain his hold on his outward bravado. "I need to clarify a few things..."

**-?-**

Ronald Weasley stared out over the meadows surrounding The Burrow; his family's home. He was lost in thought. He'd felt torn between his two best friends at the close of the previous school year, and, as a result, hadn't contacted either of them. Not that he'd have had the chance to if he'd wanted to, mind you. There'd been a _huge_ kerfuffle in his family, between his parents and Charlie, which was only just beginning to fizzle out, leaving him to ponder on his own troubles once more.

And so it was that, on the eve of his best mate's birthday, he was sitting in his bedroom, unable to put quill to parchment.

Exactly what _did_ one say to a boy who, though he was only just exiting adolescence, had saved the Wizarding world numerous times, and was expecting his own child within mere months?

'_Hiya, Harry! How's life been treating you lately? Let's hope this next year's a good'un!' _?

He thought not.

And what did one _buy _him? Another broom servicing kit, when he _clearly_ wasn't allowed to ride? Or perhaps some _PlayWizard _magazines, when he openly threw the quaffle for the other team?

It was all so difficult.

With a sigh, the youngest Weasley male raked a hand through his hair.

Hermione would know _exactly _what to say. _And_ she'd know what to buy...

But she wasn't there to consult.

On some level he knew that he'd have to owl her as well. And he knew she'd have her nose out of joint for not contacting her sooner, but, really, he hadn't blamed Harry for snapping one bit. She'd leaped into the carriage and carried on about 'the _nerve_ of him' for the entire journey, as if the poor sod was the only one to fault. And it just wasn't fair of her to look past the fact that sometimes she could come off a bit haughty, and that, on some occasions, people tended to reach a breaking point when being condescended to.

He should have said it to her face. But he hadn't wanted to, because he was attracted to her, and because they were supposed to be best friends. And, had he given her a dose of her own medicine...Well, there would have been a chance that both he _and_ poor Harry would have been in the doghouse. And, quite frankly, when he was determined to get into her knickers, he couldn't risk that sort of set back.

But now he missed them both, having had no contact from either of them, and realised that he'd prefer to have her friendship rather than nothing at all. And Harry, well, he didn't think he'd be able to live without his friendship either.

Overcome by the need to see his friends again, or at least to hear of their wellbeing, he began to hastily scrawl out a letter. Once the first was complete, he penned another, and called Pig, his owl.

"This one," he told the small bird, waving the first bit of parchment, "Goes to Harry. And this one," he gestured to the remaining letter, "Is for Hermione." He sent Pig a steely glare. "Don't mess it up."

The bird twittered at him, before taking off out the window. He watched it leave, wondering, vaguely, who would receive their letter first. Then he raced from his room to find his mother, and let her know that he was heading off to Diagon Alley, to buy Harry the perfect birthday present.

**-?-**

"And this one?" Hermione eyed the shopkeeper wearily. She was searching for a present for Harry's birthday, feeling decidedly guilty for ignoring him all holidays.

She'd cooled off, having realised that the raven-haired boy had had every right to respond to her meddling the way he had and, though it had hurt, she really couldn't stay upset with him. Not when he was going through something that she knew nothing about.

And now she worried about him. How was Snape treating him? Was he eating properly? Was the baby alright? Had he confessed?

She was shaken from her thoughts as the grubby old wizard in front of her attempted to con her into a sale.

" 'S mighty rare, Miss..." he babbled, holding up the amulet she'd been eyeing. "The centre 'as a real drop o' Vampire's blood..."

She placed her hands on her hips, and glared at him. "I'm not a fool, Sir." She told him, pointing at the jewellery in annoyance. "Vampire blood, even the smallest drop, creates a shimmer so powerful, that the centre of your amulet would be constantly glowing! Now, _imitation_ blood, on the other hand, much like the sample within your jewel there, is pretty, yes, but it is neither powerful, nor rare. So, I apologise, Sir, but I will not allow myself to be swindled today. Good day."

She stormed out of the shop, wondering why the Ministry had yet to crack down on fraudulent businesses.

She was fuming so much that she lost sight of where she was walking, and bumped directly into another person.

"Oof," the other said, as she stumbled backwards.

"I'm _terribly_ sorry," she began, mortified at her clumsiness.

A familiar laugh caused her to look up in surprise. "Ron!" She cried, flinging her arms around his neck. "You great oaf! You walked into me on purpose!"

He grinned, and savoured the feeling of her tiny frame in his embrace. "Couldn't help myself..." He shrugged, still making no move to let her go. "You were clearly in one if your huffs, so I figured you needed a good laugh. Familiar face and all that."

She giggled, and the sound went straight to his groin.

She pushed herself away from him, and stood back, observing the small changes.

"You're taller!" She declared. He smiled.

"Not by much."

"It's enough."

What had she meant by that? Knowing her, the comment was probably intended to be read in literal terms...but he couldn't help but imagine that it was an indication of attraction towards him.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" She asked, linking her arm through his, and walking towards The Leaky Cauldron. "Buying text books and school supplies?"

Ron shook his head. "That's been done already, seein' as the lists came early on this year…" He ordered a couple of Butterbeers from Tom, before turning back to Gryffindor's live-in know-it-all, drinks in hand. "I'm lookin' for Harry's present, actually."

She took her drink and smiled. "So am I." Her face fell. "I've had no luck."

"I've had an idea or two," he took a swig of his drink, relishing the taste as it hit his tongue. "But there's not too much I can really afford..."

"What if we combined our money?" Hermione suggested. "It'd probably mean more than if we each got him small token gifts."

That wasn't exactly true, as Harry would love anything given to him, and they both knew it, but it gave them an excuse to present themselves as a united front.

Ron nodded. "Any suggestions, then?"

"Well," his companion replied, setting her empty bottle down on a nearby bench, "I've got a few..."

**-?-**

Harry sat at his desk, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was a coward and a failure. Severus _still_ didn't know the truth. No, instead he merely knew that Harry had not been in a relationship when he fell pregnant. _That _was Harry's supposed attempt to clarify the situation. It had only made matters worse.

He should have come clean at the very beginning. Now he was in too deep, and had no clue as to how to get out.

Some time into his moping, he was shaken from his thoughts by a hyperactive owl tapping at his window.

"Pig!" He exclaimed in surprise, rushing to let Ron's pet in, "What brings you here?"

The small bird extended its tiny leg, to which two scrolls were attached. Harry removed the one bearing his name, noticing that the other was addressed to Hermione. Had they kept in close contact over the break?

Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and regret.

He knew he was jumping to conclusions, but he'd been out of the loop for so long, or so it seemed, and so many things had happened to him…and they'd not shared anything together…as a trio, at any rate.

Pushing the terrible thoughts from his head, he quickly opened the letter. He couldn't help but grin at the familiar sight of Ron's messy scrawl. Noticing the friendly address -'Dear Harry'- he released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and began to read.

"_Dear Harry,_

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_

_Sorry I haven't written sooner. There's been a bit of a feud between my parents and Charlie. Don't worry about it, though, they're working through it…Things are almost back to normal! So, now that things have settled down, I can actually sit down and write to you and 'Mione._

_Yeah, I haven't written to her, either. Can only imagine__how upset she's gonna be when we get back to school._

_Ah well, shite happens, eh? _(Here, Harry's grin broadened as he imagined his friend shrugging nonchalantly. And, though he felt guilty for it, he couldn't help but be relieved at the thought of Ron being in the proverbial doghouse, too.)

_I hope your hols have been good. How's the little 'un? He or She growin' properly? I haven't told Mum and Dad - didn't think you'd want me to just yet- but they were pretty worried about you to begin with…what with staying at Snape's and all. Must admit, I was as well._

_Speakin' of which...Does he know yet?_

_I don't wanna sound like Hermione, but he really does have the right to know and all that._

…_But I wouldn't blame you for putting it off...It is Snape after all. _(Harry couldn't help frowning. He didn't blame Ron for his opinion of the Slytherin Head of House, but he truly disliked the fact that his friend wouldn't even attempt to give the older wizard a chance; not even in speech or written form.)

_I hope he's been treating you right, mate. You've been through a hard run...and he should be respectful and all that; especially with the baby and all...whether he knows it's his or not. _

_Ah, well, hols are almost over anyway…Another month and we'll be back to normal..._

_So, you looking forward to school, then? Never thought I'd say this, but I am. Just think; one more year and it's over. No more ten foot scrolls on the Goblin Rebellion of 1792. No more NEWT preparation classes. No more mum and dad breathing down my neck to get top marks..."_

There were a few marks where Ron's quill had hovered over the page. He'd hesitated. Harry read on quickly, to discover why.

_"I got Head Boy...But, with all the fuss with Charlie, Mum's not had any time to notice...It's nice, really...Not having her making a big deal of it._

_You reckon Hermione's got Head Girl? I can't think of anyone else who would...but she would have owled. Even if she did have her knickers in a twist over my not owling her..._

_Weird._

_Anyway, mate, once Pig comes back I'll send your present..._

_Hope you're okay..._

_Ron."_

Harry sighed as he set the parchment aside. Ron was Head Boy. He was happy for his friend. Really, he was. He was just a _little_ jealous.

Bloody Dumbledore. He'd probably used the same logic that he had when depriving Harry of Prefect.

It hurt. Even when he wasn't under pressure to kill Voldemort, he had too many responsibilities. His thoughts drifted to his child. His daughter. She was probably one of Dumbledore's excuses this time 'round.

Not that it was her fault.

It was his own, and he knew it.

But he was still jealous, and would be even more so if Hermione was indeed Head Girl.

With a sigh, he picked up his quill and started to write a reply.

If only he'd been _normal_.

**-?-**

Ron and Hermione exited the last shop of the day, each extremely happy with their combined purchases.

"I _know_ Harry's going to love this," the bushy haired girl rambled, patting the lid of the box. "I don't know _why_ I didn't think of this sooner."

Her companion rolled his eyes. "It's still a bit creepy if you ask me."

"Well I didn't, did I?"

Before he had the chance to respond, Pig came flying out of nowhere and crashed into his shoulder.

"Bloody owl," he muttered as he bent to retrieve it. He noticed the two scrolls, one addressed to him in what was unmistakeably Harry's handwriting, and the other to Hermione, in his own.

He paused for a moment, before realising that she'd been shopping in Diagon Alley before he'd sent the letter, and then they'd bumped into each other…and it wasn't surprising that his owl had flown off to Harry first… He sighed.

"Thanks, Pig." He said, removing both scrolls. "Er…" he began, extending Hermione's, "I sent this earlier today…"

She laughed and plucked the offending document from his grasp. They took a seat outside a nearby store, and she quickly read through the letter, not thinking it odd that she was sitting beside the sender as she did so. Ron also read through his letter, occasionally frowning at the page.

It seemed that Harry hadn't yet explained himself to the Potions Master. It also seemed that he was lonely and distressed. And he clearly missed the company of his two best friends.

"Oi, 'Mione," he beckoned, nudging the girl beside him. "Read this, will you? Tell us what you make of it?"

She set aside her own scroll and took Ron's. Within moments of reading, she was visibly upset.

"Oh, Ron, I feel like a complete cow…" She thrust the letter down into her lap, and gestured at it. "I shouldn't have been so cold in my last letter…Not when he needs us the most!" She jabbed pointedly at a particular sentence. "Not when he's so isolated!" Raking a hand through her thick locks, she shook her head. "Merlin, I didn't mean to leave him so _vulnerable_…"

A tear trickled down her cheek. Ron brushed it away without a second thought.

She inhaled sharply, surprised by the sudden contact.

He realised what he'd done, and pulled his hand away quickly. "Sorry," he managed, his face colouring with embarrassment.

She gave him a weak, lopsided smile. "Don't be." She hesitated. _I liked it_. "I…" _Do it again. Please?_ "It…was nice." Her cheeks, by this stage, were also aflame.

His pulse skyrocketed. "Yeah?" He asked, cupping her face in his hand. "And this?"

She was giddy. All she could do was nod.

He leant forward and placed a chaste kiss onto her lips.

"And that?" His voice was hoarse to even his own ears.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Uh-huh."

All thoughts of Harry disappeared as his heart soared. He leant towards her once more, a brief, silly thought filtering through his head.

_If I'd known it was this easy to shut Hermione Granger up, I'd have done it ages ago._

Then their lips met again, and the rest of the world no longer existed.

**-?-**

Later that evening, Pig returned to Snape Manor. Harry was still in his room, pondering the meaning of his existence. The bird tapped quickly on the window. With a sigh, the pregnant teen heaved himself from the bed and let the tiny owl in. He was amazed at the size of the package it carried. It was at least 5 times the bird's size.

"Strong little bugger, aren't you?" He murmured, untying the string. He unfurled the scroll first, having decided that material goods were not as important as conversing with friends.

"_Dearest Harry," _it read, surprisingly, in Hermione's concise handwriting.

He scanned the rest of the letter. There was a mixture between hers and Ron's writing. Harry frowned. Had his best mate lied to him about not contacting her? If so, it was _very_ bad form. But Ron wasn't like that. He was, more often than not, straightforward and blunt to a fault.

So he decided to reserve judgement until after he'd read the entire thing.

"_First of all, I want to wish you a very Happy Birthday. I'm so incredibly sorry for not writing again…I shouldn't have been so cruel…Will you ever forgive me? There's no excuse for my behaviour…not after you apologised so whole-heartedly…I love you ever so much, and I miss you terribly…"_

Harry, who was beginning to tear up, nodded at the letter. Of course he forgave her. He loved her as a sister. She should know that.

Ron's handwriting took over.

"_Stop your blubbering, 'Mione! -Ahem- I've said it once today, but I'll say it again, mate. Happy Birthday. I was in Diagon Alley, lookin' for your present, when I bumped into Miss Know-It-All, here…hence the joint letter. And the joint gift. _

_We know you'll love it. Even though it still weirds me out…"_

There was a sharp line where the quill had clearly been stolen from his hand. Hermione's writing predictably followed.

"_We won't say much about it, because we don't want to ruin the surprise if you haven't opened the box yet…But it should hopefully make up for us not being there…_

_Anyway, Harry, we'd best get a move on and allow you to enjoy your gift!_

_Love always,_

_Hermione."_

"_And Ron."_

Harry smiled to himself. He felt better now, knowing that things were loosely back to normal. He still wondered if Hermione was Head Girl, but, for some reason, the thought didn't bring out his jealousy as it had earlier.

Opening the box, he had the fright of his life when two tiny, beady eyes stared back at him.

A snake!

They'd brought him a bloody snake!

Why in Merlin's name was _that_ a good idea?

"Hello." It said, and suddenly the knowledge that he was a parselmouth returned to him. He hadn't used the ability in so long, he'd gone and bloody well forgotten about it!

"Er…Hello there," he replied, still not quite sure on Serpentine Etiquette, "My name's Harry. You're…er…my birthday present."

If snakes could glare…

"I am not a pressssent," The answer was fast and it sounded as though the creature was insulted. "I am a guardian, of sssssorts. And, perhapssss, a friend, in time."

"Ah…" _Well that was a great choice_, he thought. They'd brought him a pet with what they knew to be Snape's attitude. "I'm sorry…I've never really been acquainted with a snake before…except for the time at the zoo…and the Basilisk…"

The dark, unblinking eyes seemed to drill holes into his own, and he was once again reminded of his Potions professor. It was beginning to amuse him.

"Your apology hassss been accsssepted." The creature began to uncoil, and extract itself from the box. "You may call me," it hesitated, and Harry could have sworn that it rolled its beady eyes, "Sssssparklessss."

"Sparkles?" The Boy-Who-Lived repeated. "Interesting name you have there…That can't be your real name, though, surely?"

"That issss what my previoussss…_acquaintancsssse_…called me. I have no real name. Ssssserpentsssss disssstinguisssssh each other by ssssscent."

"Would you like another name, then? Something a little less…garish?"

The creature considered this for a moment, before nodding its shiny head. "Might I ssssugessst 'Sssssnake'?"

It was simple, yes. But so much better than Sparkles. And if he…or she… wanted it that way…

"Snake it is, then."

Harry grinned, and proffered his arm. Snake was clearly sceptical.

"I won't hurt you," he said, "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

Slowly, Snake slithered up his arm, and settled himself (or herself) across Harry's shoulders.

"You are exsssspecting offssssspring." It said.

Harry started. "How'd you-"

"Ssscent, Harry…I can ssssenssse it."

"Oh, right."

"But you are male…Isss it not rare for that to occur in your ssssspeciessss?"

The Gryffindor chuckled. "Well, yeah, it is…And it's a long story…Which I will relay to you another time." He began to move towards the door, enjoying the odd sensation of the scales slipping along his bare neck. "First, I would like you to meet Severus…"

As he exited the room, he neglected to notice that Pig had flown off with a rather important document. One that had Severus Snape's name written clearly in bold, black ink.

**-?-**

Severus sat in the library, a snifter of brandy clutched in his hand. Harry had been in his rooms all day. It was unusual behaviour, considering the close contact they'd kept all holidays, and it worried the Potions Master.

Had he upset the young man earlier? It was more than likely. He felt a pang of guilt; an emotion he'd only recently learnt to associate with Potter's name.

Perhaps he should go and apologise? Check up on the younger wizard? For, if he were upset, it would not be good for the baby.

Ah, yes, the baby.

Potter's little girl.

It was a pleasant surprise, that. He, himself, had been expecting the Gryffindor's child to be male. He knew not why. It had been a mere assumption…one that had proved to be wrong.

Then again, most assumptions he'd made regarding Potter had been wrong.

He took a swig of his drink, pondering, as he always had, on the burning sensation it created as it hit the back of his throat.

He loved that feeling. It was so brutal and raw, and yet so tantalising…It made him feel alive.

Should he go and apologise? Though he'd admittedly changed his attitude over the past few weeks, he hadn't yet gone as far as apologising to the boy. But if Harry was truly upset, and it was his doing…The guilt wouldn't leave until the awful deed was done. In fact, neither would Kreeper, once he discovered the younger wizard's bereaved state. If he _was _indeed upset.

If not; then all the better for the both of them.

In the midst of his musings, he failed to notice the small owl hop into the room, a piece of parchment clasped carefully in its beak.

"Severus," Harry's voice cut into his reverie. He glanced towards the doorway and offered his charge a small smile.

"To what do I owe the distinct pleasure of being graced with your presence?" He drawled, only vaguely surprised to see the serpent across the boy's shoulders.

"I'd like you to meet Snake," The Gryffindor responded, moving closer. "Ron and Hermione sent him...her..._it _to me for my birthday. But it's not a gift, it assures me. A guardian... perhaps a friend." He sent the Potions Master a wry smirk. "Just what I needed, really."

"Ah, so the Golden Trio are reunited, yet again?" Snape couldn't help the bitterness in his tone. Had he been just a substitute friend these holidays? He felt as though that were the case. He _knew_ he shouldn't have let the brat under his skin...

"Meh," Harry shrugged, clearly unaware of the thoughts brewing in his new-found friend's mind. "I'm not sure it'll be like it was...We're so distanced now...Like we've already moved on..." He stroked the serpent's head absently. "At least we're not arguing."

Severus observed the other man, and felt decidedly guilty for misjudging him, yet _again._

Meanwhile, Snake had perked up. It hissed, causing Harry to look quickly to the floor. Snape followed their mutual gaze, his own coming to land on a small owl at his feet. It stretched up towards him, holding out a scroll of slightly faded parchment.

Harry recognised the document immediately, and could only watch in horror as Severus unravelled it and began to read.

_'Paternal Father: Severus Snape'_

The words jumped out at the man in question before anything else on the page. His eyes jumped to the title and date of the document. It was Potter's child's early statistics.

His eyes flew back down to his name.

_Paternal Father_.

This had to be some sort of sick, twisted prank. He should have known not to expect any less from the son of the marauder that had tormented him during his school years.

"Just _what_ is the meaning of this, Potter?" He snapped, glaring across at the boy. He waved the piece of parchment angrily. "A ludicrous joke, perhaps?" He sneered, and took a menacing step towards the pregnant teen, "A jab at your _lonely,_ _greasy_ Professor?"

Harry's eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. "No...It's nothing like that!"

Snape advanced on him, not buying into his distress. "Then you'd best explain yourself, Potter."

The Gryffindor clutched his abdomen protectively. "I told you it was complicated..." He whispered, trying not to cry. "I told you had no reason to suspect she was yours."

The words '_And I told you that you wouldn't want her._' remained unspoken, but Severus remembered their conversations clearly.

For the briefest moment his glowering demeanour slipped, and he sank down into the nearest chair.

Harry was telling the truth. He didn't have to read the boy's mind to know it. But _how _was it even possible?

He stared back at the younger wizard, his eyes cold. "How?" He spoke quietly, but his tone was damn near lethal.

Snake hissed, clearly unimpressed with Harry's upset state. The Gryffindor shook his head. "Nothing I say can explain it..." He wouldn't cry. He would _not_ cry. He forced himself to meet the Slytherin's gaze. The man deserved that much, at least. "I...Let me show you..."

When Snape refused to reply, Harry fled the room, finally allowing the tears to fall.

"Your mate sssseemsss rather upsssset." Snake said, much to Harry's irritation.

"He's _not_ my mate."

"But you are carrying hisss offsssspring." The creature was confused. Yet another trait he shared with Snape at that particular moment. "I can ssssensssse it."

Through his tears, Harry rolled his eyes. "Which is _why_ he's upset." He sighed, though the effect was ruined by a mutated sob. "It's a bit complicated. I'll explain another time."

He set his 'present' down on his bed, and retrieved a large box from the wardrobe.

"I'll be back..." He sniffed, returning to Severus.

In the time he'd been gone, the older wizard had regained his composure. And, having had the last few minutes to assess the situation, he was barely able to conceal his rage.

The logistics were no longer an issue: he'd verified the magical signature on the sheet bearing the foetus' statistics. Potter was pregnant with his daughter. That was all that truly mattered at that point.

And it angered him further to find that Potter had known...He'd known and he'd deliberately concealed the truth!

Severus felt betrayed and more than a little foolish. He should have known better than to trust a Potter.

As if on cue, the brat returned, his eyes bloodshot, and the residue of thousands of shed tears embossed into his cheeks.

His weakened appearance only served to increase Snape's anger.

How _dare_ the boy act so upset when it was he, Severus Snape, that had been used and betrayed!

Harry approached in silence, carrying with him a rather large box. He held it out to the older wizard. "I'm sorry, Severus." His eyes remained focused on the floor.

Once the Slytherin had taken the box, he turned and left, feeling as though he'd been pushed into holding the entire world on his shoulders once more.

* * *

A/N- Firstly, I'd like to apologise for the awful (and cliché) spelling when Snake speaks. I was truly determined to avoid it, as I despise reading it in most other fics, but, for some reason, my fingers didn't agree when I went to type everything up. Secondly, I want to make it clear that I don't usually support HG/RW…I hadn't intended on hooking them up, either, but they kind of escaped my control. Ah, well, it's not really going to effect anything…Or will it? (Insert overtly dramatic music here.)

Oh, and before anyone can comment on it; Ron's spelling (etc) in the letter was deliberately thought through. I know I write my notes/letters to my friends in slang, but I do put in the appropriate apostrophes and the like, so that it doesn't look too trashy (or maybe just because I'm pedantic…). I figure that Ron would be very much like me in that case, he's lazy but not stupid.

Aaanyway, please continue leaving reviews…I get a natural high from your feedback, and I simply adore suggestions…

So, I'm gonna leave now…and let you press the little 'submit review' button.

Lots of hugs and Sexy Sevvies to all of you!

Molvanian QueenInExile

PS- Oh, and those waiting on _The Tension and The Spark_, I'm trying my hardest to write up the new chapter, but writer's block has been a bitch. Give me a couple more weeks and hopefully the next chapter will be up and running.


	7. Answer

A/N- I know, I know, my updating sucks! As a reward for your patience, here is another chapter. And you'll be pleased to note that it is rather long! 26 pages in Word! (I must warn you that there _are_ a fair few flashbacks, but I suggest you read every word, as some scenes are new, and others have been edited, so that you get Sev's perspective!) PLEASE enjoy, and review at the end.

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Severus opened the box cautiously, his need to understand the situation overpowering his self-righteous anger. Inside he found a small stone bowl, filled with a familiar shimmering liquid, nestled beside a wad of parchment.

_A homemade pensieve,_ the Slytherin thought to himself, offhandedly. _Interesting..._

He could see the memories floating beneath the surface, and, despite his rage at the boy, couldn't help but be impressed. Potter would have brewed the required potions himself, with limited materials, and that, in itself, was a daunting task.

Scowling, he reminded himself that Harry had lied to him, and was not worthy of praise...

His gaze shifted to the parchment. It was, not surprisingly, labelled in the Gryffindor's messy scrawl.

With a sigh, Severus reached for the letter -for it could not be mistaken to be anything else- and began to read.

_"Severus," _It began, _"If you're reading this, you're a better man than anyone has ever given you credit for."_

He rolled his eyes. The boy would, it seemed, forever rely on melodramatics.

_"I'm so sorry that I've kept our child from you. By the time you read this, we probably know if it's a girl or boy...but, as I sit here, only metres from your room, I'm still unsure...Not that it matters, really..._

_I've been lying to you. I feel worse and worse with each passing day. Not for myself, either, which probably comes as a surprise to you, but for you and our child. I've gone and hurt you both...and have probably ruined both your lives in the process..._

_But this is no time to dwell on myself..._

_You've noticed the pensieve. In it I've placed my memories that relate to the conception of your child. And, yes, I know you never touched me..._

_This is the easiest way I can explain things to you...Without Veritaserum or Legilimancey, if that's even how it's spelt. _(Severus sneered; it wasn't.)

_What I've done...It's unforgivable...And illegal...But, no matter what you might think of me after this, I beg you not to hold it against your child._

_Please, delve into the pensieve...There is another piece of parchment waiting for you, once you've finished._

_I can only apologise so much, Sir. I don't expect your forgiveness; something I've told you numerous times already."_

The letter stopped short, and Snape couldn't help noticing odd marks and smudges over the parchment; undeniable evidence of numerous shed tears.

Feeling slightly uneasy, even more so after the mention of illegal behaviour on Potter's behalf, he reached for the crudely built pensieve. Extracting his wand, he braced himself before dipping the tip into the shimmering substance, and falling into Potter's memories.

He came to land in his Potions classroom, and, sending a fleeting glance towards his memory image, scanned the room for Potter.

He found him with ease, sitting at his desk, covertly covering his nether-regions. He had yet to retrieve any ingredients.

_Ah..._ He remembered this day. However, he'd never known what was keeping the brat at bay. But now, now that he looked closer, he could sense the boy's..._dilemma._

And then his mirror-image snapped.

He winced, feeling slightly sympathetic towards the brat's plight, before remembering that he was, in reality, incredibly angry with him.

The scene around him changed, and he found himself in unfamiliar territory. _The Gryffindor Common room_.

There were children seated all around the room, babbling about one thing or another. He sought out the Golden Trio.

The know-it-all was in the middle of admonishing the Boy Who Lived.

_"-then take your time when he asked, rather nicely for Professor Snape actually, for you to get a move on-"_

_Harry snapped. "Because had I stood up and walked across the room, I would have been the laughing stock of the school!" He paused for a second, before adding; "Again!"_

_"Oh? Why this time, then?"_

_"Because, if you must know, I was trying hard not to explode in my trousers because Professor Snape was just so bloody shagable today!"_

_Attempting to catch his breath after his outburst, Harry's face drained of its colour, and he glanced around at his horrified peers. With a moan, the Boy Who Lived dropped his head into his hands. _

The scene changed again. This time he found himself in a room that closely resembled the last, only it was much smaller, and contained only Potter and his two lackeys, who were doing their best to console the boy.

_"He is rather enigmatic…and has a tall, dark, mysterious charm about him…and, now that he takes more care with his personal appearance, he really is rather stunning, in a classical beauty sort of way…."_

Severus was surprised at Granger's kind words, though he felt as though he shouldn't be intruding on such an intimate moment between the tight-knit group. However, it was important to Harry..._Potter _that he did.

_"The way you're talking right now makes me wonder if **you** might have a crush on the bat." Ron snorted. _

_Hermione glowered at him. "That is far from funny, Ron. Keep this up, and I'll have the room kick you out."_

_His eyes widened in horror. "You can do that?"_

_She shrugged. "Most probably."_

_"So, you **don't** think it's wrong, and twisted and disturbing?" Harry cut in._

Despite himself, Snape felt a pang of...was that _hurt_? Dear Merlin! He refused to acknowledge what that might mean.

_"Well, I do-" Ron began to reply, before having another chocolate chip biscuit thrust into his mouth. He glared at Hermione as he chewed, and swallowed. "What?" He snapped at her. She gestured towards their other friend, who sat with his head hung in shame and self-pity._

_He sighed, "Mate, it's not that I find you twisted and all that…I'm just…I don't know if I'll ever be okay with the thought of two men together, you know? Especially not my best mate and my greasy, evil git of a Potions professor."_

_Harry nodded. "Even though Bill is that way inclined as well?" _

_"Even though Bill is-" Weasley froze. "Harry, how in Merlin's name did you know that?"_

_Harry grinned, _(Severus told himself that he was _not_ jealous.) _causing Ron to groan. "On second thoughts, I don't want to know."_

_The Boy Who Lived burst into laughter, easing the tension between himself and his two best friends further. "Nah, it's all good. George kind of let it slip last time I saw him. You know, when I 'officially' told your family."_

_"Oh, right." The youngest Weasley male said, taking a deep breath in relief. _

_Potter smirked and waited another second before adding; "He's not a bad kisser, though, your brother."_

Severus glowered. Bill Weasley would die if he even _looked_ at Harry the wrong way again.

And, as he thought it, Snape damn near had a conniption.

He was _not_ jealous.

_All the colour drained from the red-head's face, and he hastily set his biscuit aside. "I think I'm going to be sick…"_

_Hermione rolled her eyes in the Weasley boy's direction, before looking back at the other. "But, in all seriousness Harry," she began, taking his hand in hers, "I know that you can't help who you fall for. Nobody can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having feelings for Professor Snape." She paused, as if to consider the truth of her statement, then amended; "Apart from him being your Professor, that is."_

_Harry chuckled, and accepted her placations. "Thank you." _

Again, the world was spinning around the Slytherin's feet, though, as the scene changed, he could have sworn he saw Draco Malfoy lurking in the shadows, unbeknownst to the Golden Child and his friends.

When he landed next, he found himself in the corridor outside his classroom, watching Potter and Malfoy bicker.

_"Let's just say that I heard you had a thing for my Head of House…" Draco spoke in a drawl, picking an imaginary piece of lint from his robe._

_The Boy Who Lived laughed. "And this is NEW information? Honestly, THAT rumour has been going around for DAYS now, Malfoy. And you believed that rubbish?"_

_The blonde shook his head, and took a step forward. "No. But I believe what I heard in the Room of Requirement the other night."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"Harry," The other boy smirked dangerously, "Don't give me that rot. I was there. I heard everything." At the look on his rival's face, he added, "Your father was not the only wizard to ever own an invisibility cloak."_

_"You were spying on me…on us." _

_"I hadn't originally intended on it."_

_"But you were!"_

_The Slytherin shrugged. "I had nothing better to do and, as it appeared we were headed towards the same place, I took advantage of the situation."_

_"So what now? Come to gloat?" Harry asked, a grin slowly making its way onto his lips. "You do realise I'm not ashamed of it now, right? Even if he were to know-"_

_"He does."_

_"What?" The Gryffindor froze, "I…bugger."_

_Draco chuckled softly, his tone remarkably free of malice. "Exactly." He lost his smirk, and for a minute reminded Harry of an actual human being. "Unfortunately for you, Severus was less than impressed."_

Severus felt a stab of guilt at the pained look on Harry's..._Potter's_ face. Damn it. And damn Malfoy, too.

_"Oh." Potter said, sounding somewhere between dejected and incredibly hurt. "Well," He started again, as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Was bound to be like that, wasn't it? Just a schoolboy crush anyway. Nothing serious." He paused a moment, then sneered, "The greasy git should have been flattered."_

Potter was only acting out of pain, Snape told himself. He didn't mean it...Not that it bothered him, of course.

No, not at all.

He cleared his throat and watched as Draco laughed.The laughter was friendly. He frowned.

_"He's not so greasy anymore, Potter."_

_The words also lacked spite._

_Harry _(like Severus)_ was taken aback. "Mal…er…Draco…" He started, cautiously. "Are you feeling alright? I mean, it's just that… you're being rather…nice…to me. And it's really alarming."_

_"Am I?" At Harry's affirmative nod, Malfoy scowled. "Ah…sod it."_

_The Gryffindor observed the blonde for another moment. "Alright." He finally began, extending his hand. "Whatever it is you've gotten your ferret-paws onto this time, I want some."_

_With a sigh, the blonde reached into his robes and extracted a half-empty phial labelled in Snape's concise handwriting. Numbing Draught. Harry furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed. _

Severus' scowl deepened. So _that_ was where his supplies had vanished to!

_"Why'd you take this?" The raven-haired boy asked after a moment, eyeing his rival wearily. _

_Draco shrugged, becoming even more complacent. "Felt like it."_

_"Well you won't be feeling much else for at least another hour…" Harry muttered _(surprising Severus momentarily with his understanding of the potion's effects)_, then sighed, "Come on, we'd best get you somewhere less…public. Wouldn't want you blaming me if someone saw us being civil."_

_At that, Harry led the way up and out of the dungeons and towards the Room of Requirement. _

Severus could only follow. He watched Potter pace.

_The door soon appeared, and the two boys entered to find a miniature version of the Great Hall set up for them._

_"Come on then," the Gryffindor urged, "Sit down and eat up, it should help dilute, or at least soak up, the potion in your bloodstream."_

_Nodding, the blond Slytherin complied, and slowly worked his way back into small insults to Harry's intelligence and so forth. "Okay, Malfoy." The Boy Who Lived finally said, setting his plate aside, "You sought me out after class, so spill it. What do you want? If this is about Snape-"_

_"Potter, shut up." Draco snapped, pushing his own plate away. "I didn't want to gloat about Snape."_

Well that was surprising.

_"Oh?" Harry's interest _(again, much like Severus') _was piqued. "Alright then, what else could you have wanted-"_

Snape watched in horror as Malfoy cut Potter off with a kiss. It lasted a few moments before Potter's surprise wore off.

_"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" He hissed, leaping from his seat. "One second you hate me, the next you're shoving your tongue down my throat-"_

_"That," Draco responded, his trademark smirk back in action, "doesn't mean that I don't still hate you, Potter." He eyed Harry in the most predatory fashion he could muster, "One can hate someone, and still want to shove them over a desk and have their way with them."_

_The Gryffindor glowered. "And yet, I've never looked at you like that before!"_

_"But you want to fuck Snape. Or, from what I heard the other night, you want him to fuck you."_

_"I-" Harry stopped himself. Malfoy had a point. He scowled. "That still has nothing to do with you."_

_"No, I suppose it doesn't. However," the blond grinned, "I believe I have a solution to both our problems…"_

_Despite the protests of his inner voice, _(and real-time Snape's rather vocal protestations) _Harry cocked his head to the side. "I'm listening."_

Severus listened, mortified, as Malfoy relayed his plan. Then a sudden chill swept over him. Harry had, of course, gone through with it...which meant that...Merlin, he didn't even want to think it...That _Malfoy _had sired _his_ daughter.

He felt ill.

But that still didn't explain how it had been at all possible. The Polyjuice alone wouldn't be strong enough...Unless...Oh, Merlin!

As the room spun away, and a new memory formed, Severus was overcome with a sickening sense of dread. He had a feeling that all his questions were about to be answered.

_Harry had once again appeared. Draco stood beside him._ _They were, once again, outside the Room of Requirement._

_Potter turned the knob, and took a step into the room, which now resembled the Potions classroom, just as the two boys had agreed in their plotting. He turned back around to face his rival. "Alright, you said something about modifications?"_

_The Slytherin slipped out of his invisibility cloak, and withdrew a couple of phials from his robes. _(Severus' frown darkened, knowing _precisely_ where they -and the ingredients contained in each- had come from.)_"This," he began, gesturing to the murky green liquid, "Is the completed Polyjuice as we all know it. This-" he placed a pale blue liquid down on the desk in front of him, "Is an advancing serum. It should, if taken exactly twenty seconds after the Polyjuice, advance the effects, and extend the duration of the first potion."_

_"Okay…" Harry nodded, looking down at the two phials, "And that means?"_

_The Prince of Slytherin moaned. "Don't you listen to Snape at all, Potter?"_

_The raven-haired boy blushed. "I get a bit…distracted, actually."_

_With another groan, Draco shook his head. "Fine. Whatever. Anyway, in answer to your incredibly stupid question, it basically means that not only will the taker -in this situation; me- look like Snape for an hour, they will also attain his voice and perhaps -depending on the strength of the serum- some more technical details too, such as elements of personality." He paused, "The usual length of the potion is about one hour as well, is it not?" Harry nodded, and the blonde continued. "Right, well, with the advancing serum, it will also last longer. Again, how long really depends on the strength of the serum. Considering the fact that I stole this one from Snape's personal stores, I think it's safe to assume the potion is relatively potent."_

Oh, no. Oh, dear Merlin, no! Snape no longer wanted to know. He wanted to leave. But he couldn't. He was stuck, glued to the spot, about to witness the conception of his daughter...

It was sick! Sick, twisted and it frightened the life out of him.

_"Alright…" Harry fidgeted, "We're really going to go through with this, aren't we?" Draco nodded, and he sighed. "You're sure there aren't going to be any side-effects from using the potion? I don't want to have to take you to Pomfrey looking like Snape if you pass out or something."_

_"Of course I'm sure." The other boy growled in response. "Do you really think I'd be doing something if I thought I might suffer from it?"_

_"Well, no…"_

_"Good."_

_The Boy Who Lived _(and Severus) _watched in silence as Draco uncorked the green phial, and swallowed the contents, then waited precisely twenty seconds to drink the blue. Within moments, the Prince of Slytherin was no longer standing in front of him, but rather the Head of the House himself._

Snape watched himself appear. He was on the verge of screaming.

He watched as he inspected his own form.

He watched as Harry ogled.

He watched as he laughed.

And, worst of all, watched himself catching his effect on the boy.

_"Worked that well, did it?" _He heard himself purr. _"Go on, then, give me the once over."_

_Hesitantly at first, The Boy Who Lived raised a hand and placed it on the impostor Snape's chest. _

Severus watched as his doppelganger twitched in anticipation at the contact.

_Harry smiled to himself, and unbuttoned the tight shirt, anxious to see the pale skin underneath. He was not disappointed. _

_"My My, Professor…" He said quietly, more so to himself than to Malfoy, "What **do** you get up to in your spare time?" The Gryffindor was clearly pleased and mildly surprised. _

_"Hurry it up, Potter." The other man murmured, leaning into the contact. "Despite the extended duration of the potion's effects, **I **might not be able to hold out for as long."_

Severus felt his chest constrict. He was in agony. It was awful to see himself acting in that manner...Whether it was actually him or an impostor made no difference. It was still him, physically. And what he saw himself doing...It was disturbing.

_Harry chuckled. "Oh, shut it Malfoy," he replied, slowly inspecting Severus Snape's lower torso, and the dip of his tight trousers. "You can wait a few minutes…"_

_"I bloody well can not!" One of Snape's hands came down on Harry's wrist, and pushed his hand onto the evidence that Draco was having a hard time controlling his -or were they Severus'?- instincts. "See?" He hissed._

_Harry swallowed. "Not yet, but I can't wait to." He shot back, attempting to undo the belt buckle and then zipper of Draco's pants. _

_Another laugh escaped the other man's lips, and it went straight to Harry's groin. "Merlin, Draco…" He gasped, "Do you have any idea what that does to me? Snape **has** to laugh more often."_

_Another chuckle. Harry moaned, slowly losing control of himself. He struggled to remove Draco's trousers, which were clinging to nicely muscled, long, pale legs. Not a moment too soon, the task was complete, and the Slytherin kicked free of the offending clothing, now standing in front of the Gryffindor in nothing but a pair of black, satin boxers._

_"Right then," _Snape watched himself say._ "Your turn."_

_The next few moments allowed Harry to live out one of his fantasies; Professor Snape was undressing him in the middle of the potions classroom, with the intention to bend him over his desk and give him the shagging of a lifetime. Again, Harry's erection jumped in anticipation. _

_Another wry grin from the Potions Master's clone. "Eager are we, Harry?" _

_The Boy Who Lived almost melted. "Mmm…" he responded, sounding somewhere between pleading and complete ecstasy. _

Severus could only watch as _he_ proceeded to kiss the younger man. He felt powerless as they moved closer to _his_ replica desk. He was ashamed to see _himself_ sheathed inside the Gryffindor. Angry when _he_ began to push, and ill when _he_ came, crying out in a display of raw passion.

But, to make matters worse, he was hard after watching the entire thing.

He disgusted himself.

The memory went black around him, until he watched Harry awake in the morning. The boy smiled to himself, before placing his hand on his half-hardened member and working himself to completion, the name '_Severus'_ dying on his lips as he ejaculated.

Snape's own cock twitched as he watched, and he closed his eyes, feeling dirty and ashamed.

He shouldn't feel this way about a student. _Especially _when said student was Harry Potter.

It was, for lack of another word, wrong.

The next few memories showcased the initial symptoms of pregnancy, and eventually culminated into Potter's awakening in the hospital wing.

Snape watched as Harry was informed of his condition. Then sighed when the boy fainted, having discovered the true father of his child.

The memory continued on after he'd been revived, and Snape witnessed Poppy's stern words, along with her insistence that he come clean immediately.

Then the room swirled, and he found himself standing outside the door to his own office. Harry was pacing in front of him, mumbling to himself. Severus did not need to hear him to know what bothered him so.

There came a guttural growl from beyond the door, causing both he and the pacing boy to jump.

Then he watched as Harry gathered his courage and tapped on the door.

_"Enter." _He heard himself snap through the heavy oak.

He followed Potter inside, already aware of the conversation that would take place before his eyes.

_"Potter," Memory-Severus hissed, arching his upper lip in distaste. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your company this evening?"_

_The Boy Who Lived frowned slightly, and looked towards the floor. "Sorry, Sir." _

_"You have yet to answer my question." Severus drawled, his tone dangerous._

Real-time Severus caught the boy's falter. Oh, if only he'd noticed earlier...But would it really made a difference? Or would he have dismissed it as nerves for the general situation?

He watched on, curious as to what else he might have missed the first time.

_"I'm sure you noticed my absence from class this afternoon…"_

_"Quite. I received notice from Madame Pomfrey as to your whereabouts, thus you need not worry over the loss of house-points." He sneered, "Though if you do not leave my personal office within-"_

_"I'm pregnant." _

Even now, after knowing of his condition for some time, the boy's abrupt statement caught him off guard. He watched his own eyes widen for an instant.

_He quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." He paused, "And how, exactly, does that concern me?" _

He watched as Harry blushed, and shuffled his feet nervously. And now it all made more sense...

_"I…well you see, sir…Madame Pomfrey thought it best that I tell you because-"_

_He was interrupted by a tall, blond, speeding Slytherin. "Professor Snape," Draco huffed, racing past the Gryffindor, not even noticing his existence. "There's been a-" suddenly he came to the realisation that he and the Potions Master were not alone. "Potter?"_

Severus scowled as the scene continued. Would Harry -_Damn It_!- _Potter_ have told the truth? It looked as though he was about to. Snape sighed. How would he have reacted to the news back then? Not as well as he actually had, that was certain.

He found himself being pulled from the room after the Golden Boy, who, once alone, punched the nearest wall, tears trickling down his cheeks.

_"Why?" The boy cried, this time hurling a kick at the stones. "Why am I such a screw-up?"_

The castle, Severus found, would not answer.

Again the memories moved on.

Severus watched as Harry broke the news to his friends. Granger, as he might have predicted, was livid.

_"Don't you ever think of possible consequences!"_

_"Oh, of **course**." The green-eyed boy spat sarcastically, "Because I should have known that I'm a complete freak of nature." He sneered. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm a boy. How was I supposed to know that there was a possibility that being shagged would result in me getting preggers?"_

So he had a point...But did that really make a difference to Severus? After all, Potter had willingly partaken in an illegal activity, and, though it hadn't been his idea, he had known it was wrong...And, yes, he regretted it, but for what reasons? For the illegal child he carried? Or for the wrong he'd done by invading Severus' privacy? Or, perhaps, both?

By this stage, Weasley was speaking.

"_Look, you made a mistake. We, all three of us," here he looked pointedly at Hermione, "are known for it. And the last thing you're going to need right now is having us make you feel worse." He shot their female companion another look, and she blushed sheepishly, ducking her head to acknowledge the reprimand. The boy continued. "This…thing…it's going to take some getting used to, but we're best mates, and 'Mione and I will be here for you. We've been through worse together. And, just think-" he grinned, "- Your kid will be the first of a new generation of Mauraders; think of the irony. Snape's own kid working against him…"_

Here, Severus glowered, and watched for Potter's enthusiastic response.

It never came.

Instead, the boy frowned, and put a tentative hand on his abdomen, where their child -their _daughter_- resided.

_"I don't…I don't want to turn it against him…I mean, it **is** his, after all." Harry sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. "How am I going to tell him? I have until the beginning of 7th year…but M'me Pomfrey wanted me to tell him today and I just…I couldn't. He's going to **kill** me."_

_Hermione moved to his side and rubbed reassuring circles on his back. "Not if he wants to keep his child." She said, wincing once the words left her lips. Harry looked up at her, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "I didn't mean…" She sighed. "Professor Snape won't kill you, Harry. But I daresay he will be a little…**upset** with you and Malfoy…"_

And that, Snape decided, was an understatement.

Another familiar memory came into view.

_"Sir, with all due respect…he and I despise each other!"_

_"Really, Mr Potter? I was under the impression that the feeling was not quite mutual, on your behalf." He was now within Harry's eyesight, and smirking wickedly. "Unless the rumours, which you never fought to deny, were untrue…"_

_The Gryffindor blushed and sneered at the older man. "Momentary lapse in my sanity, Sir. Believe me when I say that I've long since recovered from that error in my judgement."_

_Severus' smirk never faltered, and he pointedly glanced at Harry's taut abdomen. "Indeed."_

This time, he noticed the pain and guilt in Potter's eyes. Again, would he have suspected the truth if he'd noticed this the first time around? Most likely not.

Harry was soon dismissed

_Accepting the dismissal, Harry thanked Dumbledore, nodded coldly in Snape's direction, and then made his way back down the stairs._

_"Hey, Potter!" _

_The Gryffindor stopped short in the corridor and turned slowly to face the owner of the voice. "Malfoy," he sighed. "What do you want?"_

_"A good luck kiss for the game tonight?" The blond grinned wickedly, "After all, you'll need it this time."_

Snape scowled. How _dare_ Malfoy be so arrogant as to think that Harry would sacrifice his pride any more than he already had.

And, no, Severus Snape was _not_ jealous.

Though, he conceded, he might have grown just a _tad_ protective of the young man carrying his daughter, even though he wasn't currently pleased with the Gryffindor in question.

He felt his compassion rise as tears formed in Harry's eyes, and it struck him that Potter had sacrificed a lot in order to keep their child, when he could have easily been selfish enough to abort her.

_"Not a chance. Besides, I'm not playing tonight." _

_Draco's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and genuine concern. "What? Why?"_

_"Potter," the Slytherin prompted when the other boy remained silent. "Harry," he tried again in desperation, "Why are you throwing away your chance at the Cup? I mean, if you're not playing, it's not even worth Slytherin getting out there and trying."_

_"Was that a compliment, Malfoy?" Harry half-smiled._

_Draco smirked, "Don't get used to it, Potter." There was a brief span of silence before he asked once more. "But, honestly, why-"_

_"Pomfrey would kill me if I got on a broom now."_

_"And why is that?" The blonde narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Surely the Flu-"_

_Harry's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was sick of lying. "-I don't have the Flu, Draco."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Listen…the walls have ears here…let's walk…"_

_The strange pair made their way down the corridors in silence, before exiting the building altogether. _

Severus was forced to follow. When they were sitting by the lake, he realised, with a jolt, that he was about to hear the conversation he had witnessed from Dumbledore's window. The one that had piqued his original suspicions of the two. Oh, if only he'd read their lips! If only…But, really, what was the point in dwelling? The damage had already been done.

He sighed, and continued to observe.

_"Alright, Harry," Draco finally spoke, leaning back against a tree trunk. "You were saying?"_

_The Boy Who Lived stared out across the water. "I'm…shite this is hard…promise me you won't go telling the entire school?" He turned pleading eyes onto his former rival. The blonde was clearly taken aback by the vulnerability the other young man was displaying and nodded, waiting upon the explanation. Harry swallowed, and turned back to watch the Giant Squid. "I…well…apparently, I'm going to be a father."_

_"But…You're **gay**, Potter." Draco said slowly, "And how does you getting on a broom effect the fact that you put your bun in some chit's oven?"_

_"Um, maybe I should have phrased that better…See," Harry sat down beside the other boy, and fiddled with a few tufts of grass, "I…um…I'm going to be a father…in the sense that I'm going to be a mother." The blonde looked even more puzzled. Harry sighed. "I'm pregnant, Draco."_

_"You're…" What little colour was left on the pale boy's face disappeared. "Oh, Merlin…Did I…is it mine?"_

_Harry winced. "Yes, you did… but, on the same token, no, it's not."_

_A bit of the old Draco was back in an instant. "What the bloody hell are you on about? How could I have gotten you up the duff and then have it **not** be mine?"_

_The Gryffindor sighed, "Remember the advancing serum? Apparently it was **really** strong. You were **all** Snape. Right down to your…erm…little swimmers."_

_Draco was stunned. "Fuck."_

_"That's pretty much where this started."_

_"Don't get smart with me, Potter."_

_"If I had been **smart** with you, Malfoy, I wouldn't have agreed to your stupid plan in the first place."_

_"I didn't hear you complaining during the act."_

_Harry blushed, and still attempted to scowl. "And yet, I'm complaining now."_

_"It's a bit too late for that."_

_"Don't you think I know it is!"_

_The Boy who lived slumped back against the tree, and ran his hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "He's going to kill us both, you know. And I don't know **how** to tell him. I mean, I have to spend all summer at his Manor, with him…I'm **completely** screwed."_

_Draco smirked. "I do believe you said it before, but allow me to reiterate. **That's where this started**."_

_"Oh, shut up." _

Though he was angry with the boy, he couldn't help but empathise with Harry's plight. Truly, Potter hadn't meant to hurt anyone with his actions. In fact, if he were to be completely honest with himself, Severus was a little flattered that a young, attractive man like Potter had wanted him so desperately that he'd gone along with Malfoy's plan to begin with.

The memory faded. Then Hermione was in front of him, lecturing Harry about his behaviour.

Severus watched as the boy's face darkened with each of her tonal inflections. He was reaching breaking point. Then, once the girl had finished her tirade, Potter's began.

"_I know," he said, his tone somewhat cold. "I'm the one who fucked up; figuratively and literally. And I've got enough to remind me about it every **single** day, **without **listening to you remind me time and time again in that holier-than-thou way of yours."_

_The bushy haired girl was tearing up, but the boy didn't look as if he were about to stop..._

"_You know all the answers to everything, don't you?" He continued, sounding incredibly snide. "But, really, you don't. You don't have the faintest clue about how I feel. How I've **ever** felt. You don't know what I've had to endure-" she moved to protest and he held up his hand to silence the attempt. "No. For once **you **will listen and **I** will talk." _

_She clamped her mouth shut, and he kept going, becoming more passionate with every word he spoke. _

"_You don't know what it's like to grow up in an abusive household, see freedom and then have to go back every year whilst other kids get to spend their hols with loving, caring people. And you really don't know what it's like to continuously lose the people you love over and over again. You don't know…" he took a breath, as if considering the rest of his rant, "anything of any importance, really. All books and facts, you are. Nothing substantial. Nothing **real**."_

_She was crying now, and Harry didn't look as though he were about to repent._

"_Well," she managed to choke, rubbing furiously at her eyes, "Now that's settled…I know at least one thing of **practical** value," she spat the words, and her eyes -now devoid of tears- flashed with anger and pain, "I know to stay out of your business from now on. You'll not have to worry about my meddling in things I don't understand anymore."_

_And, on that note, she turned swiftly on her heel and clambered into the nearest thestral-drawn carriage._

_Harry, still recovering from the release of so much pent up emotion, watched her leave, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye._

Severus watched Harry's face as the carriages pulled away.

The boy was the epitome of miserable. A myriad of emotions played across his face. Anger, remorse, sorrow, self-pity…It made Snape's heart clench painfully.

Then the young wizard's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, howling. He cried to all the gods above, beseeched whoever was listening to make the carriages come back, begged them to '_make it all go away'_, pleaded for someone -_'anyone'_- to take his child; clearly afraid that he'd inflict pain on her as well. He called out for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. And then, when his throat was raw from screaming, and he could hold himself up no longer, he huddled into a ball, sobbing pathetically.

Moments later, Snape saw himself appear.

_"Potter! Cease your snivelling this instant! Did it ever occur, in that thick scull of yours, that the headmaster set an appointment for a reason?"_

_"I'm sorry, Sir. It wasn't my in-" he hiccoughed, "-tention to be a b…b…burden…" He closed his eyes, and allowed a tear to trickle down his face. Reining in his emotions, he shook his head sadly. "It's all I've ever been, I know…"_

_"I demand you stop your selfish wallowing. There is no point to this disgraceful and painfully humiliating display."_

_Harry attempted to control the sobs that were once again causing his entire body to shake, and forced himself to look at the Potions Master. "I'm so sorry," he managed to breathe, before another bout of tears escaped, "I'm so sorry…"_

And now Severus understood. He could place the burden comment into its intended context. He _knew_ why Harry was so sorry that day.

Why he had _always_ been sorry.

And, despite his initial rage at the situation, he longed to hold the boy in his arms and tell him that it wasn't his fault. He wasn't to know, when he'd started his tryst with Malfoy, that it would result in a child. He was no more at fault for their child's conception than he, Severus Snape, himself.

Well, perhaps that was a slight understatement, as Potter _had_ physically participated…But harming his Potions Professor, or the man's image, had _not_ been on his agenda.

Fucking his brains out, on the other hand...

"I've seen enough." The Head of Slytherin said, breaking the charm, pulling himself into reality.

Potter's memories combined with his own, and they swirled around in his thoughts, spinning his emotions like cotton candy, until he felt light-headed and sick.

Through all his confusion, and all his conflicting thoughts, there were only two things that remained constant.

The first was that Harry Potter was pregnant with his daughter.

The second, and worst, was that he cared deeply for the young man. In fact, if he were to be honest with himself, he even loved him.

And they made for a dangerous combination.

Shaking his head sadly, he reached for the remaining scroll of parchment.

**-?-**

Harry lay on his bed, his thoughts spinning out of control.

Had Severus looked at the pensieve, or had he been too inconsolably angry to give Harry's explanation a chance?

And, if he _had_ looked into the bowl of memories, what had he thought? Certainly, he wouldn't be too pleased…but would he hate Harry? Would he refuse to acknowledge their daughter, because he hadn't physically partaken in her conception?

A rogue tear rolled down his face, and he swiped at it angrily. He had no right to wallow. He deserved Severus' scorn.

But their daughter didn't.

At the foot of his bed, Snake stirred.

"Your mate approachessssss."

Harry swallowed, and looked to the door, just as Severus entered. He carried the pensieve with him.

The raven-haired boy remained silent, waiting for the tongue-lashing of his lifetime. It never came. He swallowed and forced himself to meet Snape's gaze.

Naturally, the eyes were emotionless.

"Firstly, I appreciated the irony of the pensieve." The older wizard spoke quietly, his tone betraying nothing. No anger. No sadness. Nothing.

Harry proffered a weak smile at the reference to his fifth year. "I didn't mean for it…" He fell silent.

Severus carefully placed the pensieve on the desk, before turning back to the younger wizard.

"Secondly, I believe there are a few important issues that must be addressed."

Harry swallowed again, and nodded.

Snape sighed.

"Potter…" He began softly, before changing his mind. He sat down on the bed beside his charge. "Harry."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened, but still he said nothing, afraid that he might trigger an unwanted -but not undeserved- negative reaction from the father of his child.

"You need to know that I do not despise you." When Severus spoke, he allowed his emotions to show themselves. "I am…_disappointed_, yes." Harry's eyes filled with tears, and he suddenly realised how his words sounded. He moved closer to the younger man. "In your behaviour," he added, tentatively placing a hand on the young wizard's abdomen. "_Not_ in the result."

"You've every right to…" Harry froze, and glanced down at Snape's hand. "What?"

"Granted," The elder continued, not paying particular attention to the other's surprise, "I had always envisioned actually being _involved_ my first child's conception…" He gave the boy one of his patented, almost invisible, smiles. "Though, in essence, I suppose I was. After all, _my_ potions ingredients, phials _and_ hair _were_ used…"

Well, Harry supposed, that answered one of his questions. "Y-you w-want her?"

"Foolish boy, of _course_ I want her." Again, the older wizard found himself sighing. "And, though I am…_unimpressed_ in your reluctance to divulge the truth, I will not hold it against you as you feared." In fact, he could see why Harry had been so reluctant to tell him, after seeing himself in action. "Potter…_Harry_…I feel it is important for you to know that I have always wanted children of my own, however I had resigned myself to the notion that my chances of doing so had been and gone. And, if you'd have paid _any_ attention to our conversations these holidays, you would have known that, having acquired your friendship, I would have treated your child as my own…"

Harry found that his mouth had gone dry. "I'm still sorry…"

"As you should be. Your actions were still illegal. I will not press charges, as you _are_ carrying my child, and for that I will be eternally grateful…And, no matter how I try, I cannot maintain any anger towards you." He closed his eyes, "Simply put, Potter, you have wormed your way so deeply under my skin that I find myself inexplicably drawn to you, on more levels than I should possibly be allowed."

He waited for the admission to sink in. He knew Harry still wanted him. He'd seen it in his own pensieve, when reviewing his own memories of Harry's stay.

The one's he'd originally used to reflect on when he'd still regarded the boy's stay as a project, of sorts.

"You…you mean you…"

"Yes, Potter, I care for you. Deeply. More than a teacher should." He met the boy's -_young man's_- eyes. "You are carrying my child. That alone proves to me that you, too, understand how I feel." Harry's eyes glistened with tears, and shone with hope. "However, I will refuse to acknowledge any of these…_instincts_…until after you have graduated. It is safer for both of us."

Harry, for his part, couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Severus wanted him.

He cared for him.

Possibly even loved him.

The man was still speaking. "Personally, I need time…_We_ need time…To rebuild our friendship, if one can call it that, without the deceit, and without the lies." He removed his hand from Harry's slightly rounded belly. There was silence, and he contemplated the consequences of what he had just done.

What he'd said...It was pathetic, really...He'd left himself vulnerable...To _Potter,_ no less.

But he wanted the young man. He could hide it from himself no longer. He'd spent too many years alone, and here was a young, lithe, attractive man, who obviously wanted him...enough to break the law, and then face the consequences, rather than simply destroying the evidence...In fact, after what Potter had shown him, after what he'd written in his letters, and after their many conversations, it seemed, to Severus, that Harry was pleased to be carrying a part of his Potions Master, however unexpected and ill-timed it might be.

So, where did that leave them? He'd essentially promised himself to the younger wizard, once he'd graduated, of course. And he _did_ want to spend as much time as possible with his daughter, both before and after her birth...

So it was essentially settled, then. He and Potter would most likely wind up as an item.

The thought was ludicrous, really. And not simply because they were polar opposites, either. But because of _who_ they were. _What_ they were.

_And_ what others would think...

But the opinions of others had never truly bothered him before, so what did they matter now? Perhaps he really _was_ getting softer as he aged, if he were truly worried about being viewed as a lecherous old man; but not just _any_ old man...Oh, no; he'd be seen as the one who _corrupted_ Dumbledore's Golden Child.

Not that he had, of course. But that was what the public would think once news of Harry's pregnancy -and, subsequently, the paternity of his child- reached the outside world.

A hand, smooth and tanned, landed on his shoulder, jolting him from his reverie.

He turned dark, questioning eyes towards the hand's owner, who subsequently blushed, and removed the offending appendage.

"Sorry," Emerald orbs focused on the bedspread. "You'd...drifted off...I...I wanted to ask...Well, what I mean to say is..."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, out with it, boy."

Harry started, and swallowed. "Er...I wanted to thank you, actually...For not just hating me..." He trailed off, still not meeting the Slytherin's eye.

"I cannot 'hate' you, Potter, for reasons I have already stated." He struck the younger wizard with a steely gaze. "However, I _am_ dissappointed in you, yes. And my trust _has _faltered. Nevertheless, you, and our daughter, will always be welcome in my home, no matter what my temperament." He waited a beat, mentally berating himself for the next words to leave his lips. "I truly care about you, Harry. In the span of only a few months, you have become one of the most important people in my life, and, I fear, that is a position in which you will forever remain. You _and _our daughter."

He smiled warmly, his words only just sinking into his own head.

A daughter. He was expecting a daughter.

A wave of awe seemed to flow over him, warming him to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

He hadn't really had time to process the truth until now. Yes, he'd believed and accepted it...but to truly _process_ it, and understand the reality of the situation was a different thing altogether.

And, as the awe ebbed away, a new emotion took its place: Anxiety.

Would he be a competent father, or would he take after his own, and wind up being despised by his child? And what of Harry, who was still just a child himself? How would they, together, endeavour to raise another soul, and a female at that?

These were all issues that he and Potter would have to discuss, in time.

Not that they had very long left, really, until their daughter would make her entrance into the big, wide world.

Harry was already four months gone...and, when school resumed, he'd be over five months pregnant...And Poppy _had_ warned them of the chances of a premature birth, due to the physical inabilities of the male form...

So, really, they did not have as much time to prepare as Severus would have liked.

But, shooting a glance towards the dumbstruck teenager, now was not the appropriate time to discuss such issues.

He rose to his feet, and nodded in the younger wizard's direction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe it is best if I returned to my rooms. There is still much that I need to think about."

Harry nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. He, too, had a lot to ponder, especially now that Severus had spoken to him...

Snape exited the room, a million and one thoughts clouding his mind.

**-?-**

Harry rose with the sun the next morning. It felt less like a birthday than any other he'd experienced. Perhaps it was a sign of growing up...But, considering the turmoil of the last few months, Harry guessed otherwise.

"Ah, Harry, you've risssssen."

The boy almost jumped out of his skin. This whole 'talking pet' thing would take a fair bit of getting used to.

"G'Morning Snake..." He mumbled, fumbling his way into the bathroom.

The damn thing followed him.

He frowned, feeling utterly uncomfortable. After all, it wasn't just _any_ pet...it was intelligent...like a human, almost...and he _really_ didn't want to relieve himself in front of it.

"Can I help you?" He asked the serpent, attempting to cover his frustration.

"I need ssssusssstenancsssse." It replied, the light from outside reflecting from its scales. "I musssst eat."

"Ah..."

What to do? What to do?

An idea hit him. He raced out of the bathroom and scrawled a quick note to Severus. He handed it to Snake.

"Give this to my mate," he instructed. "He'll be able to help."

As the creature slithered out of the room, parchment grasped in its fanged mouth, Harry sighed.

Sometimes he really missed Hedwig.

**-?-**

As the sunlight spilled into Snape's rooms, he frowned and burrowed further into his pillow.

He'd barely slept during the night, having been far too preoccupied with the previous day's revelations. And now, when he was _finally_ on the verge of dozing off, the bloody sun had to rise and ruin everything! He'd _never_ been able to sleep once the sun was up, not even when he'd been young.

With another 'harrumph' of frustration, he rolled over, so that his back was facing the open window, and shut his eyes.

Perhaps if he just _imagined_ it was still dark…

Something brushed his leg, forcing his eyes to open in shock.

There was something in his bed. It was moving up underneath the covers, brushing against his skin every so often.

He wanted to throw back the covers, and expose the intruder, but reminded himself that there was a chance he'd be putting himself in more danger if he did so.

Keeping as still as possible, he waited for whatever it was to emerge.

Suddenly, he was looking into a pair of yellow eyes.

It took him a moment to realise that his new-found bed-fellow was none other than Potter's new pet.

He glowered.

"What do you want?"

He asked it, knowing very well that he wouldn't be able to understand the reply.

The snake slithered closer, and deposited a piece of parchment atop of his bare chest.

"_Severus,_" It read, in Potter's rushed scrawl. _"Snake's just told me that he (or she) is hungry. I sent him (or her…I really should ask, shouldn't I?) to you, as I didn't want to let it free on the grounds without your approval…Or, perhaps you've got a few mice stowed away, for potions purposes?_

_Thanks heaps,_

_Harry."_

He scowled, then looked back at the serpent. It really was a magnificent creature, and certainly not an ordinary snake, either.

Its scales were clearly magical, judging by the myriad of colours they could shine, and the patterns over its body were probably just as mystical…

It hissed at him, putting a halt to his observations.

He sighed.

"Alright…Allow me to shower and dress, and then you will be fed."

It seemed satisfied with that, though he was relatively certain it couldn't actually understand him.

Severus frowned.

Bloody Potter.

**-?-**

Harry yawned as he entered the kitchen, wondering, idly, why Kreeper no longer pestered him at meal times. Surely he hadn't convinced the elf that it was unnecessary…After all, Dobby had never given up! And now, well, now he _wanted_ food…Lots of food.

He rubbed his swollen stomach, and licked his lips.

A nice thick piece of soy and linseed toast smothered in avocado, lemon juice and sprinkled with freshly ground pepper was what he wanted.

His mouth watered at the mere thought of it.

When he finally exited the kitchen, his arms laden with plates of food, Severus was seated at the table, watching him.

"G'mornin'," Harry said, his mouth full of toast. '_Mmm, heaven…'_

Snape raised an eyebrow, "I believe that many happy returns are in order?"

'_Ooh, and the malted milk is so…' _"Huh?" '_Ohh…my birthday…riiight.'_ He blushed. "Er…thanks…"

The Slytherin cleared his throat, and accio'd a box. He passed it to the younger wizard.

Harry goggled at him. "Y-you bought me a _present_?"

Severus shrugged, as though he purchased gifts for his arch-nemesis' son everyday. "It isn't anything to get all…_Hufflepuff_ over, I assure you."

The younger man grinned, and threw himself at the package. He gasped. "A pensieve? But, Sir…_Severus_…these things cost a fortune! I can't accept-"

"Compared to the chance you are giving me, Potter," here, he glanced pointedly at the boy's belly, "A few galleons mean nothing."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, and, before either of them knew what was happening, he'd thrown himself into the older man's arms, and was hugging him for dear life.

Snape, not used to such intimate displays, pushed the younger off immediately.

The teenager looked as though he'd been slapped.

Severus' insides clenched remorsefully, and he tentatively reached out and held the boy's chin, so that they were eye to eye. "I apologise, Harry…I am not, nor have I ever been, one for such emotional behaviour…Especially not with someone so…_pure_."

Then, as if suddenly struck himself, he removed his hand, and stood abruptly.

"I suggest you pack your belongings. We leave for Hogwarts tonight."

And with that he left, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.

Harry, confused and emotionally conflicted, had nothing to do but cry.

What a Happy-_Sodding_-Birthday.

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A/N- I assure you, the soy and linseed toast smothered in avocado, lemon juice and pepper is _not_ a weird craving…It's one of my own personal favourite snacks…YumYum. AHEM…Aaaanyway, I thank you all again for your amazing responses.

PLEASE review. This chapter was one of the most taxing on me, as Severus would just NOT react the way I'd have liked him to. (In my plan, he's extremely upset…and Harry and Malfoy are in deep dragon dung! Clearly, that didn't happen…)

However, I can understand why he found it so hard to stay mad at the boy…

But what is this twist at the end? Has he snapped? Come out of a daze?

I can't wait to read your thoughts on this little beauty.


	8. Time

A/N- So, firstly, big thanks for all the supportive reviews and PMs. I'm really sorry if I don't get many chances to reply…It's nothing personal, I'm just currently worked off my feet. Now, without any further delay, I give you CHAPTER 8! (And, just a warning, it's a whopping 38 pages in Word…so pace yourselves if you must! LOL) And to those of you reading _The Tension and The Spark, _you'll be pleased to hear (read) that the next chapter is well underway, and will be up in a couple of weeks, uni permitting. (Grins)

* * *

Severus paced the length of his private study, a thousand thoughts swirling about in his head. 

He felt as if the weight of the entire world had just landed on his shoulders.

How stupid he'd been! Making all sorts of outrageous promises to a child. A _child_, for Merlin's sake! And not just _any_ child, but a child that had lied to him, time and time again. A child who had acted illegally against him, whether intentionally or no.

The child of his schoolyard archrival.

Certainly, the boy was going to allow him a right -a cosmic gift, if you will- that no soul before had...But did that warrant such ludicrous behaviour on his own part?

Of course not.

He'd been blinded by his surprise and, though he was loath to admit it, _joy_ towards his impending fatherhood. So blinded, in fact, that he'd convinced himself that he actually _cared _for the other father; a mere _teenager _that he'd never even _thought_ about touching...

And _that_ had led him to make those incredibly humiliating declarations...To which there were absolutely _no_ traces of truth...

And that _was_ the case.

It was futile to think otherwise.

Come to think of it, he hadn't been thinking in the first place, and _that_ was all there was to it.

End of story.

So, on that note, Severus pushed aside all other thoughts; in particular the nagging voice inside his head which told him he was making a rather large mistake.

**-?-**

"Mister Harry Potter, sir..."

Harry shot the elf a tear filled glance. "Yes, Kreeper?"

Kreeper hesitated. "Perhaps now is not being a good time...But we is finding this-" he extended a rather ticked off serpent towards the boy, "-in the kitchens. Binky, the kitchen elf, is telling Kreeper that she is being your birthday present. Kreeper is _wishing_ Mister Harry Potter is telling him of the momentous occasion! We is making Mister Harry Potter a birthday feast!"

The Gryffindor attempted a watery smile, and extended his hand, in order for Snake to slide up his arm. "Thank you, but I don't need a feast." As if to contest, his stomach growled.

Kreeper frowned, taking in Harry's disheveled appearance, and blotchy, red eyes. "Is Master Severus being cruel to Mister Harry Potter?" He placed his withered hands onto his bony hips. "For, if Master Severus is not being nice to his guest, Kreeper will be having words with him."

Harry almost laughed at the elf's temper. He clearly thought he had the authority to put his 'Master' back in line.

"No, Professor Snape is not being cruel. I'm just not feeling well." He placed his hand on his stomach, thinking about how strange Severus' official title felt to say now. But, it was something he'd have to get used to, for another year at least.

The house elf appeared to buy his excuse without any problems, however became visibly upset for another reason altogether. "If you is being ill, Sir, you should be calling Kreeper! Kreeper is getting you medicines! Master is being a _Potions_ Master!"

An invisible smile tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth, and he shook his head; a gesture of amusement _and_ an attempt to ward off the house elf. "I will be fine without medicines...I promise." Kreeper eyed him skeptically, and he proffered another smile, in an effort to convince the creature. "If I need you, I'll call, I swear it."

He contemplated, idly, placing his hand across his chest, just above his heart, and swearing '_Wizard's Honour_', but felt that the humour would be lost on the elf.

Kreeper frowned, but nodded. "If you is being certain..."

"I am."

"Alright, Mister Harry Potter, Sir." With a final nod, the house elf disapparated, leaving the troubled teenager alone to his thoughts once more.

After a moment, Harry sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He didn't understand why Severus had snapped as he did, but, deep down, he knew that moping about would earn him no points with the older man.

And then there was the fact that he had to be strong for the safety of his child...

It was decided, then. He was going to calm himself and get on with his life, whether Snape loved him or hated him -or _both._

With a renewed sense of self, he made his way to his rooms, half-heartedly listening to Snake.

"Sssstupid elvesss...I am no threat...Your mate showed me to the kitchensssss to catch the rodentssss, and the brainlessss foolssss ssssspent all morning attempting to capture me."

Harry actually found his pet's indignation amusing, so remained silent, lest he insult the poor thing again.

Snake continued her -for that was what Kreeper had said Snake was- tirade. "It ssssseemed asssss though they'd never sssseen a sssssnake before..."

"I don't suppose they had, actually. Except for in the portraits." Harry found himself cutting in. "And, even then, most people -elves included- don't really...er..._trust _snakes." He hesitated. "See...snakes are...er...generally seen as dark creatures..."

"That isssss prepossssterousssss! We are no darker than the elvessss themsssselvesssss."

Harry's thoughts flickered, angrily, to Kreacher, Sirius' evil elf, but he squashed the memories before they could go any further. He didn't need another surge of raw emotion...

"_I_ know that, Snake." He let himself into his rooms, pausing, briefly, to think that he would no longer be able to call them such. He swallowed and continued his conversation. "But there were some wizards -dark wizards- that used serpents for dark magic...For torturing innocent people. So much so that the stigma still lingers today."

_Now, if only I could write essays for History of Magic this well..._

Snake slithered down his arms, and across his torso, before slinking down his leg and onto the floor.

"Will your acquaintancsesssss assssume we are dark?"

"We?"

"A wizsssard who assssociatesssss with ssssserpentssss is also viewed assss a dark sssssoul, isssss he not?"

She had a point. "Er...well...yeah, I s'pose..."

Snake looked at him expectantly.

He sighed, and dropped down onto his bed.

"Some people might, yeah. But most of the kids at school know me…and they know that I can talk to snakes…So, the fact that I own-" Snake hissed, clearly insulted, and he back-peddled immediately. "-er…I mean, _associate_ with one shouldn't worry many people."

"But ssssssome will assssume you are of the dark."

Harry smiled tiredly. "You can't please everyone, I'm afraid. And if people want to believe that, it's their business, really. I've got other things to worry about."

"Aah," Snake nodded her shiny head, as she wound her way around a leg of the large oak four-poster, "Sssuch assss your offssssspring and mate."

The raven-haired teenager nodded, reaching out, on impulse, to stroke the area underneath Snake's chin…that was, of course, if snakes even _had_ chins...

"Yeah, something like that…"

**-?-**

As the sun began to sink down behind the distant hills, and the sky lit up in the peaceful hues of pink and yellow, Harry followed Severus in silence, dragging his trunk in the air behind him.

He'd packed his belongings, allowing Snake's blathering to distract him from his miserable thoughts, and had left his trunk at the base of the stairs once he was done, as a message to Snape that he was more than prepared to leave.

And so it was that, as dusk began to settle, Harry was standing outside Snape Manor, watching his Potions Master reset the estate's wards.

"Where are we travelling?" Snake hissed into his ear. It tickled.

Smiling at the sensation, he gestured towards the emblem on his trunk. "Hogwarts. My school. We'll be there a while."

Severus turned to watch the exchange. The parseltongue language had always intrigued him.

"Will there be many mice?" She lingered, as usual, on the 'sss' of 'mice'. It made Harry grin.

Though Snake's words were nothing more than hissing sounds to him, Severus could see that the serpent had amused its owner.

Harry was smiling, and the combination of his happiness, and the light of the setting sun behind him, seemed to give him a healthy glow. He continued to talk to the serpent, unaware of Severus' keen gaze.

Snape withheld a sigh.

He wouldn't allow himself any feelings for the young man. Once the boy had graduated, and had entered the real world, he would soon realise that his feelings for his Potions Master had been nothing but a schoolboy crush. Whether they were connected by their daughter or not, Harry would discover that he could do much better than the older Slytherin. And he would laugh, at some point, about his folly.

After all, he was everything that Snape was not.

He was still such an innocent…Still so _pure_, as Severus had openly admitted that morning.

After thinking about what he had meant by his own comment, he had convinced himself that he was insane to even consider the notion that they might someday be an item.

He'd committed acts that had caused even the wicked Dark Lord to shudder. His soul would forever be tainted, whereas Harry's would always shimmer with innocence.

And what of his numerous -and rather dubious- sexual partners? What of the revels? Though he knew he was free of disease, Severus felt as though he would _always_ be dirty. And Harry, despite his and Draco's illegal tryst, would forever remain clean.

Harry, Severus had decided, deserved to lead a much more promising existence than one where he remained tethered to his greasy Professor.

And, now that he watched the teenager, Severus knew that he'd made the correct decision.

He had to leave the boy alone.

Harry deserved much more than he could give.

Sensing the older man's gaze, the Gryffindor turned and offered Severus a shaky smile. "All done?" He asked, hoping that his tone didn't betray him. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay on at the Manor, and get to know the real Severus more. But, sadly, it was not to be, and he'd be damned if he showed the man any weaknesses now, especially after Snape's abrupt change of heart that morning.

Severus nodded, and magically shrunk their luggage, pocketing both Harry's trunk, and his own. He extended his arms, ignoring the voice in his head that told him to relish the moment. After all, it would be the last time he would hold Harry in his arms. Not that it should mean anything to him, though. He couldn't afford to remain emotionally attached to the brat.

Harry bit back tears as he stood in Severus' embrace, knowing, instinctively, that it would be a long while before they could share a similar moment again.

_I have to be strong._

He repeated his mantra in his head, hoping to calm himself.

_I have to be strong. _

He closed his eyes, and waited for the strange swirling sensation to overwhelm him.

When he next opened his eyes, he was in Hogsmeade.

Severus let him go.

_I have to be strong_.

**-?-**

Nestled in his bed in Gryffindor tower that night, Harry couldn't help but feel lonely, and the harshness of the stone walls did nothing to appease his anxiety.

He thought longingly of the comforting cherry wood panelling that adorned the walls of his rooms in Snape Manor. He'd never -not even when Severus was upset with him- felt lonely there.

But here, in the darkened tower of Gryffindor, he felt isolated. The silence was almost deafening. And he couldn't draw his curtains around his bed, as they only increased the feelings of claustrophobia.

He had to get out of there.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he fumbled for his slippers and glasses.

"_Where_ are you going?"

He turned to face Snake, who was curled up on a large cushion on the ground beside his bed.

"A walk," he replied. "Can't sleep."

"Then I mussst join you," she said, matter-of-factly, uncoiling herself. "For your ssssafety."

He rolled his eyes, but allowed her to slink up his arm anyway.

At least he wouldn't feel quite so lonely…

He exited through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's protests, and made his way down the hall, wondering, idly, where he should go.

His stomach gurgled, and he smirked. There was his answer, then. He'd go to the kitchens.

Turning down a familiar corridor, he hesitated at the sound of approaching footsteps. Realising that he hadn't retrieved his invisibility cloak, he suddenly felt foolish.

But, really, he had no reason to worry. After all, he didn't have a curfew, as it _was_ the holidays, and the halls of Hogwarts were definitely safe to travel now, especially with the threat of Voldemort gone.

So he was not about to get into any trouble, and he _definitely_ wasn't risking any house-points.

The footsteps neared, and he shook himself from his stupor.

It was alright. Nobody would mind that he was heading off for a midnight snack.

He started moving, and turned the next corner, only to walk directly into the other hall-wanderer.

"Potter!" Snape's voice exclaimed, causing Harry to jolt.

He looked up into the other man's eyes. "Sev-" He sighed, knowing that he no longer held that privilege. "Professor." He lowered his gaze, not wanting the other man to see his pain.

"Just _what_ do you think you are doing lurking the corridors at night?"

Harry rubbed absentmindedly at his stomach. "I was hungry, Sir. Couldn't sleep."

Severus eyed him sceptically. "And you couldn't have summoned a house-elf? Or does logic escape you?"

"I…" He looked up, wanting nothing more than to throw himself into Severus' arms and confess that he was lonely, and just a little scared. But his pride prevented him from doing anything of the sort. He sighed. "The latter, Sir. I just didn't think."

"A feat you have yet to accomplish," Severus drawled in response, extracting his wand. With a _swish, _and a muttered spell, he summoned an elf.

"How is Dobby being of service to Professor Snape tonight?" The familiar creature asked, waiting patiently for the Potions Master's response.

"Mister Potter requires yet another meal." Snape gestured to the boy in question. "And see to it that he is escorted back to his dormitory. He is not to wander the halls at night, holidays or no."

Dobby turned to face Harry, a gleeful smile spreading across his weathered face. "Harry Potter!" He exclaimed in awe, throwing his arms around the teenager's thighs, "Dobby is not knowing that you is back at Hogwarts early! If Dobby is knowing, Dobby is visiting sooner! Oh, you is being very naughty, Harry Potter, for not telling Dobby!"

Snape rolled his eyes at the exchange. _Brilliant_. He just _had_ to summon a house-elf that worshipped the brat.

Harry, meanwhile, shot his Professor a dirty look. "I was _about_ to, Dobby, before Professor Snape _kindly_ summoned you."

_Ah, sarcasm,_ Severus thought to himself, _the lowest form of wit._

Pity he used it so often himself...

"Well Dobby will be bringing Harry Potter food!" His big ears flapped about as he nodded enthusiastically, "And Dobby will bring it to Harry Potter's dormitory, like Professor Snape is asking." He cocked his wrinkly head to the side, observing Harry closely. "You is looking healthier, Harry Potter. You is eating more!" He beamed, gesturing to the swell of Harry's stomach. "What is you wanting to eat tonight?"

Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Harry smiled, and licked his lips. "Er...Can I have a chocolate éclair?" He asked, his mouth watering, "And some warm milk, with a bit of honey?" Hopefully he'd get to sleep that way.

"Of _course,_" Dobby said, snapping his fingers. He disappeared, then reappeared moments later, a small tray of food clutched in his odd little hands.

"We is going back to Harry Potter's dormitory now," he informed the wizards, before strutting back in the direction from which Harry had only just come.

The Gryffindor glanced back at his Potions Professor. "Thank you, Sir." He said, surprising even himself with the tone of genuine appreciation. "Good night."

He turned and sped after Dobby, leaving a puzzled Severus Snape in his wake.

**-?-**

The next three weeks passed without further incident. Harry had avoided Severus at all costs, and had the feeling that Severus had gone to similar lengths to avoid him. Not that it had been difficult, really, with Snape barricading himself in his office all day of every day.

But now Harry found himself pacing outside the door to the man's personal chambers.

He knocked lightly on the wood, having gathered all his courage.

It faltered when Severus' voice snapped '_Enter, Potter_'.

He opened the door cautiously, not particularly wanting to deal with a brassed-off Snape.

"Contrary to what most people believe, I do not bite, boy."

The voice came from one of the leather recliners by the fireplace.

Harry stepped into the room, savouring the familiarity. Though he'd never been in Snape's actual chambers before, they reminded him of Snape Manor, and the sitting room here particularly reminded him of the library.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Sir, but..." he trailed off, wondering whether this was even worth the while.

Severus shifted in his seat, and looked at the younger wizard. "But?" He prompted.

Harry swallowed. "I...er...I've another appointment with M'me Pomfrey, and I thought...that is to say, I _wondered_ whether you might want to...er...join me?"

He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the worst.

Severus observed him, and weighed up his options.

If he were to agree, Harry might assume that he was still interested in forming a relationship. However, on the other hand, if he declined, it would look as though he wanted nothing to do with his child...that he wasn't interested...and he _definitely_ wasn't willing to give up his rights _that_ easily.

"I will accompany you," he eventually replied, feeling the urge to smirk at the boy's look of surprise, "_However_-" here, Harry's smile faltered "-it is _strictly_ out of interest for my daughter. I will not have you harbouring any ill-conceived notions that I might possibly be interested in pursuing a relationship with you."

_Ill-conceived? _

Harry felt rage bubble up within him.

"With all due respect, _Sir_," he hissed, narrowing his eyes, "The only notions that I _harbour_ are those that _you_ put into my head when _you_ said that _you_ _**cared**!_ When _you_ told me _you'd_ wait!"

Severus winced. He _knew _that his own words would return to bite him in the rear sooner or later.

"Potter," he began, attempting to control his temper, "You cannot honestly believe that a _relationship_-" he shuddered as he said it "-between us would actually work." He twisted his expression into a sneer, "Think about it, Potter. I was in shock to learn of my _involvement_.So much so that I had convinced myself that _promising _myself to you was the right thing to do. Naturally, I came to my senses. I suggest that you do the same."

Harry gaped. That wasn't true! It _couldn't _be! Severus Snape would _never_ act so irrationally! There was clearly more to the situation than met the eye.

"Fine." Harry heard himself respond. "I don't give a rat's arse whether we're to be together or not." He felt slightly better to see a glimmer of surprise and regret in the older wizard's eyes.

_Good. Serves the old bastard right_.

He ploughed on, placing a deliberate hand on his belly for dramatic emphasis. "But I _do_ care about her." He glared into obsidian orbs. "You can't leap in and out of her life. You're either going to be there for her, or you're not. It's simple." He strode to the door, tilting his head back to deliver his parting shot. "You can play about with my emotions, Severus Snape, but I'll be damned if I let you even _attempt_ to do the same with hers."

He slammed the door on his way out, not caring that Severus was staring after him.

**-?-**

Harry was still seething when he went to his appointment.

"Stupid git," he hissed to himself. "Just who does he think he is?"

"Is everything alright, dear?"

Poppy's voice caused him to jump. He blushed.

"Er..."

Looking into her eyes, he knew he couldn't lie. Averting his gaze, he started to speak.

"No, actually it's not."

"Oh?" She led him towards his usual hospital bed. "What's troubling you?" She lifted his shirt, and smiled at his rounded stomach; he was coming along perfectly. "It's not the child, is it, my dear?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Not exactly..." She arched an eyebrow, prompting him to clarify. His cheeks were crimson. "I explained everything to Professor Snape." He felt his throat constrict, and forced himself to remain calm.

Madame Pomfrey, knowing how volatileSeverus could be, placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

The young man was still speaking; spilling out his heart to whomever would listen.

"...I mean, he was actually pleased, you know? He was happy he was going to be a father...And...well...he wasn't upset with me at all..."

This came as a surprise to the Mediwitch. "However?" She asked, wondering what had upset the boy so, if it hadn't been the Professor.

Harry took a deep breath. "Then he...changed his mind." Poppy looked horrified, and he scurried to explain himself. "Not about the baby!" His blush deepened, "A…about me."

She glowered. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh! No, I didn't mean...Well, yeah, in a way...but, see, it's more complicated. He...he said he wanted to wait for me...sort of make a real 'family' after I graduate..." As he spoke, his eyes lit up, and he smiled, enjoying the elaborate imagination. But his face fell when reality crashed back down upon him. "But...he changed his mind...And I don't mind that he's hurt me...but I don't want him to hurt her..." His gaze turned steely. "I'll kill him if he hurts her."

Poppy had the impression that Harry was telling the truth. It was amazing the way maternal instincts could manipulate a person; and a male person at that!

She patted his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "There there, deary..." She soothed, moving to pat down his fringe. "Severus has just had a bit of a shock...But if I know the lad-" and she thought she did, "-he will come around in time. When someone matters to him...well, the poor soul keeps it to himself...but he does care. Your daughter will know it, Harry, I assure you."

Harry was sceptical, but nodded anyway. He felt somewhat better, having spoken to someone about his troubles, though it still hurt to think of Severus' harsh words that morning.

As if on cue, the man himself stalked through the doors, and took his customary place to Harry's side, acting for all the world as if nothing awkward had occurred between them.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Poppy greeted him, shooting her patient an unreadable look. She met his dark eyes. "Harry tells me that you've learnt the truth."

He glanced down at the teenager in question, who made a good show of inspecting his fingernails, obviously desperate to avoid meeting his gaze. With a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he turned his attention back to the Mediwitch, who was clearly expecting some sort of response. "Indeed," he tilted his head slightly, "And, despite the fact that it is none of your business, I assure you that it was a welcomed surprise, and I intend to play a strong role in her life." He looked, pointedly, at Harry. "Which may come as a surprise to _some_."

Poppy smiled at him. "Excellent news, Severus." She exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. "I expected nothing less."

Snape, having been privileged enough to witness Harry's memories concerning his meetings with the Mediwitch, merely forced a small smile. "Indeed."

The atmosphere between the three grew tense, so, after a few minutes, Harry sighed and took it upon himself to break the awkward silence.

"Well..." He began uncertainly, clapping his hands together, "Are we going to get on with this or not?" He looked towards Poppy.

"Oh, of course, Harry, dear. Of course." She muttered, remembering herself, and bustled about, retrieving various implements -most of which Harry had become quite familiar with, much to his discomfort.

She returned to his side, smiling in -what he _assumed_ was- 'reassurance'.

"Just relax, Harry," She instructed, waving her wand above his abdomen.

The hologram appeared above the wand's tip, as usual, and Poppy beamed across at them.

"Everything is just as it should be." She looked down at her patient. "Have you felt her moving yet?"

Harry shook his head. Madame Pomfrey smiled on.

"Not to worry. Any day now."

Harry forced a smile. If he were to be completely honest, he'd admit that he wasn't actually looking forward to that aspect of pregnancy. It scared him, actually. He'd seen enough of Dudley's horror movies -having peeked through keyholes and windows- to expect that it would be awkward -and _painfull-_ to have another living creature under his skin, moving within him. He thought of _Alien_ -one of Dudley's favourites- and shuddered.

Though Poppy missed the quiver of the young man's shoulders, Severus did not.

What was bothering the boy? Surely, if he were queasy, or anxious, he would confront the Mediwitch.

He watched Harry intently for the duration of the appointment, but found no obvious cause for the boy's discomfort.

As they exited the wing, he thought, for a brief moment, that he should ask Harry outright. After all, he would have done so, if they were still at the Manor.

If they were still friends.

But that had changed, and they were no longer on easy speaking terms. Thus, it was less complicated if he remained unattached. If he remained cold, cruel and distanced. No more damage could be done that way.

Harry's real friends -the ones his own age- would return to the school in a week, and then the world would return to normal. Harry would forget all about his fleeting acquaintance with his Professor, and Severus would return to his realm of quiet nights spent alone in front of a fire, a snifter of brandy in one hand and a good book in the other.

So it was, then, that he chose not to question the boy, and merely bid him 'good day'.

Yes, he thought as he stalked back to his rooms, it was less complicated this way.

**-?-**

Back in his dormitory, Harry found Pig waiting for him, a letter tethered to his leg. It was from Ron, wondering if he might like to spend the last week of the holidays at The Burrow. Harry grinned to himself. That was _exactly_ what he needed. One last hurrah with the Weasleys before his world turned upside down for good.

Before he became a parent.

He scrawled a quick reply to his best friend, pleased that Molly had already contacted Dumbledore for permission, and sent Pig off immediately.

He rushed about, filling a backpack -yet _another_ of Dudley's seconds- with various clothes and knickknacks, woke Snake from her nap, and then made his way to the Castle's entrance, where a thestral-drawn carriage would soon arrive to take him to Hogsmeade.

Once in the village, he summoned the Knight Bus, and paid for his ticket and hot chocolate, vaguely pleased to see Stan again.

" 'Choo bin up to, 'arry?" The lanky conductor asked as he handed the Boy-Who-Lived his ticket. " 'Aven't 'eard abou'choo in the papers no more."

Harry shrugged. "School, actually. And relaxing." He smiled, "No more fighting or anything. It's been good."

Stan laughed, and conjured the warm drink. He leant forward, conspiratorially. "Put in an extra marshmallow for ya," he whispered. "No extra cost or nuffin'."

"Thanks." Harry accepted the mug and drank up with relish. It tasted like heaven…if heaven had a taste, that was.

"No problems, 'arry."

The rest of the journey was filled with inane chatter about Hogwarts, assignments and detentions, and left Harry feeling light-hearted and untroubled when he finally got off at The Burrow.

"See ya 'arry." Stan chortled as the bus disappeared with a 'bang'.

Ron was waiting at the gate. "Harry, mate, brilliant that you could come!" He strode forward and enveloped his best friend in a manly hug. "Hols haven't been the same without your visit."

The raven-haired teenager nodded. "I know. It's good to be back."

"You look good." Ron said, before rethinking his phrasing. "I mean…you look healthy. I wasn't…y'know…" He blushed, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah, I know. And thanks." He gestured towards his middle. "I'm starting to show a bit, though…"

"Like I said, you look healthy. Not much else, yet." Ron paused, "Mum'll still be able to tell, though."

The other boy's face fell. "Oh…"

"Well, you were goin' to have to tell everyone sooner or later…and, anyway, 'Mione and I are here, so-"

"Hermione's here?"

"Yeah," the redhead was blushing again, "She's cookin' with mum and Ginny at the moment…Give us a bit of time to catch up an' all."

Harry eyed his best friend critically. There was something else. Something he hadn't been told. Then it hit him, and it stung like a slap in the face.

"You've shagged her!"

Ron's eyes widened and he lunged forward to cover Harry's mouth. "Shuuuushhh!" He cried, his cheeks redder than Harry had ever seen them. Pulling his hand away, he looked to the ground, and scuffed the toe of his shoe in the dust. "Mum'll kill me if she finds out." He turned pleading eyes back to his friend. "I mean…she knows we're together…but if she thought for a second that-"

"-I get it, Ron. She'd never leave you alone again." He grinned wickedly. "At least, not 'til after the wedding." He laughed at the horrified look on the other's face. "C'mon…I'm starving…"

They trudged to the house, catching up on the basics of each others' holidays. Harry was a little miffed that Ron and Hermione had been seeing each other since his birthday, when neither had bothered to tell him, but he was still relatively pleased that they were happy.

But, as they neared the front door, Harry began to feel anxious. What if the Weasleys didn't approve of his condition? He knew they had no qualms about his sexuality…but this was a whole new step altogether. He was pregnant. _Illegally_ pregnant to his Potions Professor. And he was only seventeen. And alone. And he _knew_ he was like a child to Molly and Arthur…so how _would_ they take the news?

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, catching the worried look on his face.

He nodded. "No." Wait, that wasn't right. He shook his head. "Yes." Hang on a tic…He sighed. "I don't know."

His friend squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "It'll be over before you know it. They care about you, no matter what, remember?"

Harry wasn't so sure, but swallowed the knot in his throat and nodded anyway.

They entered the house, and Ron bellowed out to the others, to let them know that their guest had arrived safely. Harry fought the urge to hit him.

Suddenly, it was a mistake to have come. He didn't want them to know he was there. He didn't want to have to explain himself. He didn't want to watch Ron and Hermione canoodling. He just wanted to leave. To go back to Snape Manor, where he was comfortable, and happy. Where he had Severus' trust and friendship. Not here, where he was an outsider.

"Harry!" Hermione was the first to greet them, and she flung her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "Oh, it's so good to see you! And you're looking healthy! Good. You've been taking care of yourself. I'm so pleased!"

He hugged her back, feeling a little bit of the tension that had built up inside him melt away.

"It's good to see you, too." He replied, smiling as she pulled away. "Ron admitted to the new _development_ between the two of you, as well." He nudged her playfully.

She grinned. "Good. I didn't like thinking you were out of the loop. It's not right."

Harry was about to respond, but found himself cut off by Molly's loud greeting. "Harry, dear!" She exclaimed, bustling forward, her arms extended. "Come give us a hug, then."

He was certain that he looked mortified as she closed in, and gave her an awkward hug, praying that she wouldn't press against his belly, and discover his condition immediately.

She pulled away, an odd look on her face. He hoped she was simply confused about his strange embrace. "Let's get a good look at you, then." She said, stepping back to take the sight of him in.

The odd look on her face morphed into a scowl, and he knew the gig was up. "HARRY POTTER!" She cried, her face turning an odd shade of red. He winced. "I'D HAVE THOUGHT YOU'D HAVE HAD MORE SENSE!"

At the sound of her cry, the other Weasleys -Bill included (he must have been visiting for tea again)- rushed in to see what was going on. This was _not_ how Harry had wanted to tell them. Especially Bill. He hadn't been joking when he'd told Ron that his brother was a good kisser. In fact, he was rather skilled in a _lot_ of areas. And, though their fling had been short, he'd cared a great deal about Bill Weasley. And it wasn't fair that he was about to have the evidence of his more recent sexual relationship flashed about in front of his ex-lover's face. It wasn't fair on Bill, and it certainly wasn't fair on him.

"Molly," Harry tried to placate her, "Mrs Weasley, _please_-"

"-Just what is going on here?" That was Arthur. He was, unsurprisingly, ignored.

"-I am **_VERY_** disappointed with you, Harry!"

"Mum!" This time it was Ron. "Harry's been through a fair bit…"

He too was ignored.

Harry was still attempting to explain himself. "I know, but I didn't know I could-"

"**_THAT_** is no excuse! You shouldn't have been in that position to begin with! You're too young! **_FAR_** too young!"

For an instant, Harry longed to tell her that it was none of her business, but, if she really must know, it was one of _her_ eldest sons that had _first_ taken him. When he'd been much younger. And that it had been one of the most enjoyable experiences of his life. That it had continued on between he and Bill for months. And, worst of all, that she was in no position to lecture him because she was not his mother. Because she'd _never_ be his mother.

But he held his tongue, knowing that it was his anger talking, and that she was the best mother figure he could have ever asked for.

He was close to tears, but still tried to calm her. "Please, I didn't…It's hard enough doing this alone without being yelled at by the only family I've known…"

She paused, as if considering this, and then softened. "I'm still disappointed, Harry."

"I know." He averted his gaze. "I don't blame you."

"Can someone _please_ explain all this?"

Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley, and opened his mouth to tell him that now was not the time. That he and Molly would all sit down and talk about it in private. But Mrs Weasley had other ideas.

"He's pregnant, Arthur."

There was a collective gasp, and Harry winced.

It was going to be yet another long night.

**-?-**

"Who's the lucky guy, then?"

Harry was sitting alone under a tree in the backyard, playing with the grass. He'd had to explain himself -as best he could- to Molly and Arthur earlier that evening. Meanwhile, Fred, George and Ginny received the run down from Hermione and Ron. To his knowledge, Bill hadn't participated in either conversation.

Harry jumped at the sound of his ex-lover's voice.

Green eyes met blue. "It's hard to explain, actually."

"Go on." Bill sat down at his side.

He sighed. "Long story short; it's Severus Snape's…but he…er…well…he didn't exactly have anything to do with it."

Bill gave no sign of surprise, or revulsion. He merely looked out across the grounds. "Now the slightly longer version?"

"Draco…Er…Malfoy polyjuiced himself to look like Snape…and used a really strong advancement serum…and then we…well…we conceived. And, apparently, because of the serum, he was _all_ Snape…But I didn't know I _could_ conceive in the first place…so I thought I only had the flu or something…and then, well, M'me Pomfrey proved otherwise."

"Ah."

Was that it? 'Ah'? _Just_ 'ah'?

Shouldn't Bill react a little more violently than that? Shouldn't he be upset? Or angry?

Harry felt cheated.

An awkward silence fell between them, only to be broken by the increasingly irritating question: "Does Severus know?"

Harry turned to meet Bill's gaze. "Yeah. He's actually pleased, if you can believe it. Wants children. Wasn't too happy with me, though. Can't blame him."

"And Malfoy?"

"What? Does he know?"

"That…and what's Severus' current impression of him?"

"Yeah, Draco knows…But," the younger wizard hesitated. "I'm not actually sure what Severus thinks of him at the moment. Can't be too impressed…I mean, it was all Draco's idea…the polyjuicing stuff, I mean…" At Bill's move to protest, he added; "Not that it's any excuse on my part. But if I'm in the wrong for going along with it -and I am- Draco definitely is."

Bill nodded, and the silence overwhelmed them again.

This time it was Harry who broke it. "You know…Sometimes I stop and think about how lucky you and I were not to fall into this situation…"

"Oh?" The redhead arched an eyebrow.

Harry felt his cheeks grow red. "I mean…I loved you…I still do, but not like that, if you know what I mean…" He ploughed on, "But if I'd known that I could conceive…"

"You wouldn't have given yourself up so easily?" Bill sounded slightly put-out, and Harry rushed to better explain himself.

"No!" He exclaimed, willing the tears away. "I just…I might have been a bit more careful, you know? Like spells or Muggle prophylactics or something. I'm too young to be pregnant now…but back then? Merlin…it bothers me that we got away with it every time." And there had been many 'close shaves', come to think of it. "We were lucky."

Bill offered a small smile. "Perhaps it was more Fate than Luck, Harry." He rose to his feet. "The universe was against 'us' from the beginning." He was, of course, referring to the many problems in their relationship; the majority of which had lead to their ultimate demise as a couple. "This is simply confirmation." Another smile, brighter than the last, graced Bill's lips. "Congratulations, though. The timing may be disappointing, but pregnancy suits you. And there's no doubt that parenthood will."

Harry felt his cheeks burn. "Thanks. I think…I think I really needed to hear that. From you, I mean."

Bill extended his hand, helping Harry stand. He leant forward and placed a small, chaste kiss on the teenager's lips. Drawing back with a smile, he ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "Don't mention it, Potter. After all, that's what friends are for."

Harry laughed at the cliché, and felt a small pang of regret that they hadn't worked out. Bill really was rather good looking…and such a sweet man, too. But there had been too many ill-contributing factors -none controllable by either man- and the risks had been too great.

And now…Now he was over Bill. He still loved him, but he was _in love_ with Severus.

As if to punctuate the sentiment, he felt their daughter move for the first time, and was surprised, mildly, by how natural it was. There was no pain, and it didn't feel as though some strange creature was lurking beneath his skin. Instead it was odd…but comforting…like butterflies of a reassuring kind.

There were no words that could describe the serenity that overtook him at the flutter in his stomach, nor could he begin to explain the bond that seemed to instantly develop between himself and the baby….

But he liked the sensation, and hoped that the next time she moved, Severus would also be around to experience the moment, whether he wanted to hate him or not.

**-?-**

Before Harry knew it, school had started, and he tried to get used to sharing his bedroom with four other boys again. Though their number had decreased by one, thanks to Ron's status as Head Boy, Harry felt that there were too many people sharing his space. He'd become spoilt over the holidays, having been able to dress with ease, safe in the knowledge that nobody was watching. He was able to shower and bathe, glad that nobody could see his baby-bump, and start spreading rumours.

But now, back in the crowded dormitory, things were more difficult. He had to force himself up before the crack of dawn, so that none of the other boys discovered his secret. He knew he'd have to come clean at some point, but he was afraid of the media backlash. He didn't need to receive hundreds of howlers, each expressing Mrs Weasley's initial reaction.

Certainly, the Weasleys were all rather pleased now; they saw his daughter as a new addition to their brood, and for this Harry was happy, because she would need all the love in the world. He'd known what it was to grow up without family, without love and care, and he was resolved to provide the opposite to his little girl.

But what would the rest of the Wizarding world think? Not all were impressed with his sexuality -some were as narrow-minded as the homophobic Muggles- and he knew that many wizards still believed that sexual relations were to be reserved until after a wedding or bonding.

And that left Harry a bit out of the 'norm' on both accounts, for he wasn't even certain that two male wizards _could_ legally marry or bond.

Not that it mattered. He'd always been the odd one in a crowd.

He just didn't want the negative publicity to affect his daughter. Merlin only knew how _he'd_ despised it.

"Oi, Harry!" Seamus' voice cut into his musings, "Come play explodin' Snape?"

Harry frowned to himself. The twins would be in _so_ much trouble the next time he spoke to them. "Nah, thanks anyway." He managed. "I've still got History of Magic stuff to do."

"Another time then." The Irish boy replied, before racing out of the room.

He was glad, at least, that Seamus hadn't chosen to tease him about his 'feelings' for Snape, as almost every other student had upon declining their offer to play the game. But then, Seamus had always been a good friend.

_But none as good as Severus_, his mind added. He scowled, feeling slightly traitorous to Hermione and Ron. Although, they'd been too busy making good use of Ron's private 'Head Boy' rooms.

And _that_ had been one of the biggest surprises so far. That Hermione had missed her 'Head Girl' position. It fell, instead, to a practically anonymous Hufflepuff who had, apparently, been equally intelligent as Gryffindor's resident know-it-all…she just never got into as much trouble as Hermione. Or, at least, that was the reasoning that Harry thought Dumbledore might have used.

Either way, Hermione didn't seem too upset. She was still prefect, she had more time to do her schoolwork, and then spend time with Ron.

They just sacrificed a little 'Harry-time' to achieve their privacy.

And, really, he couldn't blame them, no matter how depressed he became. He'd done the same to them when he and Draco had mucked around. The only difference he could see was that he knew that Hermione had more sense than to let Ron impregnate her and turn everything upside down.

With a sigh, he rubbed his belly.

She was growing, he could tell, and soon everyone else would be able to, as well.

And he had yet to isolate a name for her. To say 'I like so-and-so' or 'this name sounds nice'. He continued to put it off, and the only excuse he was ever able to form was that Severus deserved his say.

But, at almost 6 months gone, he'd not had a chance to discuss such matters with the Potions Master.

"I'll just take drastic measures, then." He said to himself, eyeing his potions essay.

**-?-**

Severus watched the class file out, each 7th year -_including _Hermione Granger- seemed anxious to leave. Obviously, he'd been a little more snide than usual. And probably much more cruel.

"Potter," he drawled, watching as the last few people left the room, "You are to stay behind."

Granger, he noticed, shot the boy an apologetic look, before fleeing off to her next class. Harry, he knew, had a spare lesson next, which coincided with his own break.

Slamming the door shut, he gestured towards his office. "In."

Harry obeyed in silence.

Watching the younger wizard trudge into the smaller, more private room, Severus couldn't help but note the dark circles forming under his eyes, and the sickly tint to his skin. He was not getting nearly enough rest. And that worried him.

"Sit." He commanded, and again the boy complied.

The Professor brandished Harry's most recent assignment. "Care to explain?" He asked, eyeing the boy carefully.

Harry offered him a small smile. "I wanted to speak to you. _That_-" he gestured at the parchment, where some rather spiteful comments had been scrawled, "-was to get your attention."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "And a simple 'we need to speak' was too difficult for you to write?"

"You'd have ignored it."

"Would I?"

Green eyes, lacking their usual lustre, met vaguely concerned obsidian. "Probably."

The older wizard sighed. "What was so important?"

"She needs a name."

"_She?_ She _who_, Potter?"

Harry blinked back at him, incredulous. "Our baby."

Then it struck him. He'd suspended the knowledge, believing that it would only cause him grief. "Oh," he was taken by surprise for only a moment, "Naturally."

Here, the younger wizard smiled a little more. "I just thought…well…You deserve to have some say in it, don't you? I…I'd like it if you did."

Severus nodded. "Indeed. I will give it some thought, and forward my suggestions at some point in the near future." He waited a beat. "Was that all?"

Harry wanted to tell him that it was. That everything else was perfect. That school was working out just as well as he'd hoped, and that his life was bordering on 'normal'. But found, when he opened his mouth to speak, that he couldn't.

He missed Severus Snape, the friend. The confidante. He didn't care if they'd never work as a couple…but he longed to be able to discuss things with the older man. To be able to talk about his day, and about his problems, and have a few laughs over a number of butterbeers. And so he told the older wizard just that.

He felt the weight of the last two months lifting with each word he spoke.

He told Severus about his initial fears of being left alone in the dorms, and now his wishes that all the other boys would leave. He explained, tearfully, about his fears about news of his pregnancy getting out before he was ready, and of his newfound need to rise before the sun, just to ensure his daughter's safety. He described, to the best of his ability, what it felt like when she moved inside him.

He then begged Severus to continue being his friend, because he had nobody else. Because he didn't feel as close to the others as he once might have. Because he loved him, and no, not just on a 'relationship' level, but as a friend. As someone he'd grown to care about on _many_ levels. As someone he'd learnt to trust and enjoy his time with. And it was hurting him that he no longer had anyone to experience that with, and he didn't know how Severus did it everyday, and that he wished he was stronger, but knew that he wasn't. And he knew that, no matter what, he needed Severus in his life, one way or another.

And, at the end of his rant, he took a deep breath, and collapsed against the back of his chair, feeling somewhat better that he'd gotten all that off his chest.

Severus' heart, however, was feeling a damn sight heavier.

**-?-**

Hermione and Ron snuggled together under the plush blanket. He idly toyed with a loose strand of her hair. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, just before Halloween, and the two had elected to stay behind, and enjoy each other's company. So far, they'd discussed classwork, reminisced over years gone by, and wound up in bed. Utterly spent, and extremely sated, they'd collapsed into each other's arms, and this was how they'd remained, in comfortable silence, for the best portion of an hour.

"D'you think he's alright?" Hermione eventually slurred, nuzzling further into Ron's shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Harry." She clarified. "Do you think he's alright?"

Ron opened his eyes lazily. "Harry? Yeah, I s'pose..." He yawned, before grinning down at her. "Wha'choo doin' thinkin' of him just _now_, after what we just did?" His grin morphed into a teasing smirk. "You weren't thinkin' about him _while_ we-"

"Ron!" She cried indignantly, slapping his bare chest. "I'm seriously worried about him."

Ron schooled his features into a serious resolve. "Sorry, 'Mione." He twirled her hair between his fingers, marvelling at its softness. "I reckon he's 'right. He's a strong one."

Hermione sighed, and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "But is he strong enough to cope with everything on his own? His body's changing...becoming foreign to him more and more each day...and he doesn't have anyone to share it with..."

"He's got us!" Ron sounded like a petulant child, even to his own ears.

"Well...not as much as he used to." She pinned him with a steely gaze. "You must admit we've been somewhat more _preoccupied _with ourselves, recently."

He coloured. "Yeah, well, he's not around as much either. And when he is..." He trailed off, waiting for his girlfriend to fill in the blanks herself.

True to form, Hermione sighed. "Things were bound to be different, Ron," she said exasperatedly. "And not just because we're together...nor is it because he's pregnant...though they _are _contributing factors..."

She swivelled, so that her feet now hung over the side of the bed. Pushing herself, she slid out from the comfortable warmth completely, much to Ron's dismay, and began dressing, all the while continuing her speech.

"...We're not eleven anymore; we're young adults now. People change. Friendships...morph. This was going to be a tough year, no matter what the circumstances we found ourselves in." At her lover's saddened look, she proffered a smile, and bent to kiss him. "Oh, that's not to say we're not still close, Ron." Here, she ruffled his hair affectionately. "Harry knows we care deeply for him, just as I know he cares for us. We've just...found less time to communicate it. It would have been this way, even if NEWTS had been our only worry."

The youngest Weasley male seemed vaguely placated. "I s'pose," he eventually replied, hauling himself from bed. "Still, I reckon you were right to begin with..." He quickly threw his legs into a crumpled pair of pants. "Maybe we should...y'know...go see if he's alright. That snake we gave him can't always be the best company in the world."

He frowned as he said it, thinking of numerous instances where he'd found the small beast lurking about his ankles, or curled up in his recently vacated seat, refusing to move upon his return. Harry always found it amusing. Ron had yet to see why.

He yanked on a shirt, not caring that it, too, was rather crinkled.

Once fully dressed, the pair made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Not surprisingly, it was almost completely vacant, save for a few first and second years scattered about the room, struggling with overdue assignments - the majority for Snape.

"Hey," Hermione said, spying a second year she knew. "Seen Harry about? He's not gone into Hogsmeade, has he?"

The boy, a vaguely distant cousin of Hermione's, shook his head. "Last I saw him, he was headed towards the Quidditch pitch." The child shrugged. "I thought he'd given it up."

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

She turned back to her third cousin -twice removed- and forced a smile. "Probably just reminiscing, I'd say. Or giving pointers to some beginners."

And she hoped -prayed, actually- that it was that simple.

**-?-**

Draco soared through the air, savouring the feeling of weightlessness that always accompanied him when he flew. There was nothing quite like it, he decided. The wind always brought a fresh, healthy glow to his cheeks, and the adrenaline rush would leave him prepared to tackle anything. There were no troubles once he was in the sky. There was nothing to stress about. Nothing to regret. It was just him, and his broom, against a never-ending horizon.

But back on the ground...that was a different story altogether.

Harry had been avoiding him. He knew they'd probably never associate as friends, and definitely never again as lovers, but some part of him had hoped -actually _hoped-_ that they might build a civil acquaintance, of sorts.

After all, he didn't have too many people to associate with anymore. His parents -evil though they'd been- were no longer there for him. Many of his Slytherin friends had been forced to take the mark -some had taken it willingly- and were now either dead or rotting in Azkaban. And Snape...well...he wasn't impressed with Draco at that point in time. He'd learned the circumstances behind Harry's child's conception and had spoken to the blond after a class at the beginning of the term.

So that left Draco relatively alone, with the exception of a few Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

A lone figure on the grandstands of the pitch caught Malfoy's eye, and brought him out of his musings. He focused his gaze, only to discern the fact that the solitary figure was none other than Harry -sodding- Potter.

He stayed in the air for another moment, pondering the pros and cons of swooping down to the other boy, before reaching his decision. Gracefully, he drifted to the seats.

"Potter," he greeted, dropping to the Gryffindor's side.

Harry nodded in response. "Malfoy."

Draco noticed the wistful look Harry sent towards his broom. He vaguely acknowledged the pang of guilt that accompanied his observation.

"You miss it a lot?" He asked the question without a second thought, his eyes focused on a distant goal post.

"Yeah..." Harry's response was so quiet, he'd almost missed it.

He shifted in his seat, turning to meet the other's infamous green eyes. _Apparently just like his mother's_, the traitorous voice in his head piped up. He swatted it away.

"You're looking well."

He could have slapped himself. It was such a stupid thing to say.

Harry attempted an ironic smile, and patted the protruding lump that was his daughter. "So everyone tells me."

Draco's eyes lingered on his once-foe's abdomen. His condition was becoming rather obvious. "Has anyone commented on your..._growth_?"

"Has anyone worked it out yet, you mean?"

The blond nodded.

Harry sighed. "Don't think so. My robes usually hide it." He gestured towards a lump of material haphazardly thrown on the chair beside him. "But, pretty soon, that's not going to be much help."

"Bugger, eh?"

That elicited a small -but genuine- smile. "Yeah," Harry said, "Could say that."

Draco grinned, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Snape cornered me at beginning of term..." The blond started cautiously, hoping to gauge Harry's reaction. They were actually getting along, and he didn't want to over step his boundaries just yet. When the other didn't even flinch, he continued. "Wasn't too pleased with me..."

Harry looked out over the Quidditch Pitch. "Do you blame him?"

"No. But I hope he was easier on you." Draco was pleased to see the genuine surprise on the Harry's face. "I believe it _was_ my plan, after all."

"He was...well..._nice_, actually." Harry admitted. "Once he'd had time to adjust, I mean."

"Oh?" On some level, Draco was jealous. He knew he had no right to feel that way...but it still hurt him to hear about _his_ head of house giving preferential treatment to _Gryffindor's_ Golden Child.

"He was surprised." Harry nodded. "He wants her, though. As his own. Which is good for her." He caught the look on his rival's face, and shrugged. "Hasn't stopped him from being a bit... _upset_ with me though."

That seemed to relieve Draco a little. Harry _had_ been in the wrong, and Severus _had_ acknowledged it. It seemed a bit fairer now.

"Well, that's better than you'd imagined..."

"I s'pose..." Harry shifted uncomfortably. He'd _imagined_ far better, actually.

Snake, picking up on Harry's restlessness, emerged from under his discarded robe.

"Issss everything alright, Harry?" She asked, her beady eyes fixed on Draco. He didn't _smell_ dangerous...but he was a wizard, and could be warding off her senses.

Harry reached out to stroke the scales on the peak of her face. She enjoyed the sensation. "Everything's fine," he told her, marvelling, idly, in how much she'd grown. Hadn't she been fully-grown when he'd received her? After all, she'd been owned before... Though, if she'd been kept in a small enclosure, her growth might have been restricted...And, as he now kept her in the open, she had plenty of room to adapt...

"And the wizard?" She asked, halting his musings. "Isssss he caussssing you trouble?"

He shook his head. "Draco's fine. He can be a bit annoying, but he's no threat."

She accepted his reply, but moved to curl up in his lap as a precautionary measure, nonetheless.

"Nice snake." Draco commented, having watched the display in silent awe. How he wished he could understand the language!

"Thanks. She's a little protective." Harry stroked her scales gently. "Though, she'll make for an effective babysitter, I'm sure."

Draco offered a smile of his own at that. He'd owned a snake once, before his father had given it to the Dark Lord. A mate for Nagini, he'd said. _Pffft_. More like a snack.

"May I?" he asked, longing to feel the rippling of the scales beneath his fingertips.

Harry gave his consent, and, tentatively, he ran a long, pale finger down her length.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Oi, what are _you_ doin' here?" An accusing voice asked behind him. It didn't take a genius to realise who the voice belonged to.

"_Ron_," Granger's voice admonished, "He's got just as much right to be here as we do."

"But Harry-"

"-Is a big boy now, and can decide who he wants to talk to by himself." Draco fought the urge to laugh at the condescendence with which she treated her boyfriend. What really amused him was how easily the Weasley took it.

"Sorry..."

She sighed. "Apologise to _Harry_, Ron. Not me."

"Actually, you could both apologise to Draco..." Harry piped up. Draco turned to find that he was now standing, his robe fastened securely around him, disguising his pregnant belly.

Surely his best friends _knew_...

"It's not good for the baby if I'm frustrated...and your continued bickering _is_ frustrating."

And there was Draco's answer. He, too, rose from his seat, deciding, in true Slytherin fashion, to manipulate the scenario to his advantage. "Look, I'll just leave, shall I? I don't want to cause any trouble." And, he realised with a jolt, he was being completely honest.

"You shouldn't have to-"

"No, Harry, it's alright." He got a thrill of pleasure at the dumbfounded look on the redhead's face. "That Potions parchment isn't going to write itself." He turned to the other two, and delivered his parting shot, knowing that it would hit them where it hurt. "Ron," he nodded, "Hermione." And, with a final nod in her direction, and a wave to all three, he mounted his broom and soared away, waiting until they were safely out of earshot before he burst into surprisingly light-hearted laughter.

Back on the grandstands, Ron was seething. "That slimy, no good-"

"Ron, he was being _nice_!"

He turned to glare at his girlfriend. "And you don't think there's something a little _off_ about that?"

Actually, she did find it rather suspicious, but knew that discussing it in front of Harry was a bad idea. It would only serve to drive them further apart, and she had a feeling that Malfoy would take pleasure in that.

"_Ron_," She tried again. "We didn't come here to argue about Malfoy. We came to spend time with Harry."

"You don't have to feel obligated-" Harry attempted to break in. He was cut off by Hermione, who was, naturally, horrified by his suggestion that they were only there because they felt they _had_ to be.

"Harry!" She gasped, rushing to give him a hug. "Never, _ever_ say such horrid things! We came to find you because we miss spending time with you!" She clutched him tightly. "It seems our timing is often terrible this year. I mean, you've not been around when we've come to find you, and I imagine it's the same when you come after us."

He rarely ever looked for them, but he nodded anyway. It _was _nice to see them privately again.

"Now," she added, her temper subsiding, "How's that little girl of yours, then?" She placed her hands on his stomach, the thick wool of his robes muting most of the feeling. "It must be the most extraordinary experience..."

"Hey!" Ron cut in, panicking at the glimmer in her eyes, "Don't start gettin' clucky. My parents'd kill me." He paused, then another thought struck him. "_Your_ parents'd kill me!"

Harry gave a hearty laugh, and it caused the baby to stir. He was in his seventh month now, and she was kicking somewhat viciously, so much so that Hermione felt her through his robe.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, removing her hands in surprise.

He chuckled. "I think I woke her up."

"That's amazing!"

Harry nodded, a grin threatening to split his face apart, were it to widen any further. "Yeah..." he rubbed at his abdomen, "But, Merlin, it _hurts_ sometimes..."

She laughed, and continued to paw at his stomach. He glowed, and answered her questions with glee. Ron added his own thoughts wherever possible.

No, it wasn't the same as the good ol' days, but it was enjoyable for all three. Even Snake amused herself, albeit by harassing Ron...

The Golden Trio sat together for hours, talking about everything and everyone they could. Harry even spoke about Severus, and told the others -with barely restrained glee- all about their latest attempts to remain 'friends'.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances at that, but remained outwardly supportive of Harry's decision. And -who knew?- perhaps Snape was genuinely making an effort.

The sun began to slip below the horizon and Hermione pulled herself to her feet. She winced as her muscles stretched and her bones cracked.

"Come on, it's getting late." She told her companions, offering Harry a helping hand. He took it, and heaved himself to his feet.

"Thanks."

She grinned back at him.

Trudging back up to the castle, Ron and Harry spoke in unison.

"I'm starving!"

"I could _murder_ a crumbed chicken!"

Here, Hermione shot the raven-haired teen a questioning glance. "Don't you mean crumbed chicken _breast_, Harry? Or _thigh_?"

He looked at her as though she were stark, raving mad. "No...an entire bloody chicken." He patted his belly. "Eating for two."

She arched an eyebrow. It _sounded_ as if he were eating for two _hundred_. In her wisest move yet, however, she held her tongue, and followed the boys into the hall.

**-?-**

Christmas was fast approaching, as was Harry's due date. His waistline had completely disappeared, and he'd no longer been able to hide his condition behind his robes. Luckily, as it was getting so cold, he'd been able to wear larger, woollen robes without stirring any suspicion.

But people would still ask questions when he suddenly started walking around the school with a baby.

He was starting to panic, wondering whether it was a good idea to let the truth into the open and allow people to adjust _before_ he gave birth and sprang his daughter on the Wizarding world.

Deep in thought, he wasn't quite watching his step, and waddled -for he could no longer call it walking- straight into another person.

"Oomph!" "Oof."

"I'm so sorry!"

"Watch your step, Potter."

At that, he looked up at the other boy. It was a Slytherin sixth year, one whose father had been sentenced to rot in Azkaban, after the final battle. Though he was younger, the boy towered above Harry, and he didn't sound, or look, too friendly.

"I really am sorry...I didn't mean-"

The Slytherin looked around and saw that they were alone. He sneered, and took a menacing step forward. "No-one to protect you, eh Potter?" Another step. "No-one to hear you scream?"

Harry's eyes widened. This boy meant to harm him. To harm his daughter! Oh, why had he let Snake go searching for mice? She'd have bitten his would-be attacker by now.

"Look, I really didn't mean-"

"Oh, so you _didn't_ mean to put my Dad away? To _ruin_ everything?"

"Your Dad was a Death Eater. He deserves what he got!" Harry shot back automatically.

"Well _I_ reckon you're gonna deserve what you're about to get."

Was it too late to point out that it was really Neville that this kid wanted? Judging by the look on his face, and his raised wand, it was.

"Oi!" Another familiar -and angry- voice entered the fray. "What do you think you're doing?"

The sixth year grinned. "Malfoy! Brilliant timing! I'm about to take revenge for what Potter did to our families!"

"Timms, you moron, they deserved everything they got." Draco drawled as he approached, his own wand drawn. "And if you'd been more intelligent you'd have known that _I_ fought _against_ them, too." He summoned the other boy's wand, and snapped it in two, before petrifying him and turning to Harry. He softened immediately, sensing the pregnant teen's distress. "Hey, you alright?"

Harry tried to nod, but found he was too in shock to do even that.

He'd been weak and helpless in the face of danger! Who knew what horrors might have occurred if Draco hadn't happened by! And he hadn't even _thought_ to raise his wand! Oh, he wasn't fit to be a father! He wasn't!

Tears poured down his face, and he fell to his knees, barely registering the arms that wrapped around his sides, keeping him from hitting the ground. He allowed the panic to overwhelm him, and soon enough the world around him went black.

He woke, hours later, in a foreign room, on a comfortable bed. He was disoriented at first, before remembering what had happened. His hands flew to his abdomen, and he was relieved to feel his daughter moving within him. But he didn't deserve to have her...not if he couldn't protect her!

"You're awake." It was Snake who spoke. She was beside him, clearly in position to attack anyone who bothered her charge.

"Yeah..." He replied, still feeling a little woozy. The after-effects of a calming draught. "Where are we?"

"We currently resssside in your mate'ssss ressssting chamberssss."

He was slightly confused. "My mate?"

"Massssster Ssssseverusssss." She clarified. "He isssss outssssside...He hassss been worried. It isssss all around him."

"What is?"

She gave a sound that resembled a sigh of frustration. "Hissssss worry." She moved closer. "I, too, worried. It issssss my job to guard you."

Harry gave her a small smile, and stroked her scales. "It wasn't your fault, Snake. I should have been more cautious."

She protested, and then made her way off the large four-poster. "I will retrieve your mate. It isssss my duty."

She slithered out into the other room and returned minutes later, in the arms of the Potions Master. Severus looked tired, and yet relieved.

"You gave young Mister Malfoy quite the scare."

Harry averted his gaze. "I shouldn't have let my guard down."

"You had no reason to believe you'd be assaulted right underneath the Headmaster's nose."

"I'm the sodding Boy Who Lived. That's reason enough."

Severus sat down on the bed, allowing the serpent to return to her charge's side. "Harry," he lifted the younger wizard's chin, so that his emerald eyes -filled with tears- could see the concern and honesty in his own. "You are not to be hard on yourself. Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe haven, especially with the Dark Lord's demise."

"But I should have _known_ there'd still be some people out for revenge."

"And it was a student from my own house, Harry. If anyone should have noticed his agenda, it should have been me."

Harry was taken by surprise at Severus' mournful tone. "You can't think that _you_ could have known!"

Snape felt a smirk tugging at his lips. "And, by that reasoning, neither can you." He placed a tentative hand on Harry's stomach, and felt his lips twitch when the faint tapping against his palm began. "You're both safe, and Draco has been thanked for taking action..."

"Do you still hate him? For impersonating you, and all that?"

Harry was feeling better. He was glad that Severus didn't blame him for putting their child in danger, and no longer felt quite as guilty about it himself. He was also glad that they'd slowly built up a friendship over the months, as it was good to have the older wizard there beside him. It was reassuring, and it made him feel strong again on the inside.

"That is a difficult question to answer..." Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. "To begin with, I never hated Mister Malfoy for his actions. He disappointed me, yes. However, though highly illegal, his..._behaviour _has bestowed me with an opportunity that I never believed I'd receive." He glanced, pointedly, at Harry's abdomen, then back to the younger wizard's eyes. "And, loath though I am to admit it, it is Mister Malfoy's meddlings that forced you and I into this friendship, however unconventional it might be."

Harry couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. Snape was actually _glad_ they were friends! The thought filled him with warmth and happiness. "Thank you, Severus..." He said, placing his hand over the Slytherin's. "I...I'm glad everything happened, too."

He sounded foolish, he knew, but he was too absorbed in his joy to care.

Severus was glad they were friends!

He genuinely cared!

When Harry went to bed that night, he slept soundly, dreaming of obsidian eyes and the faint scent of sandalwood.

**-?-**

"Albus, something _must _be done to ensure his safety!" Severus paced the length of the Headmaster's office. "That snake alone is clearly not enough. If Malfoy hadn't stumbled upon them in time..." He trailed off, not even wanting to think about what might have happened. Better to let the old coot fill in the blanks himself.

"Severus, calm yourself..." Dumbledore looked old, and weary. "Harry is safe where he is. Today's incident was unfortunate, yes, but young Mr Timms has been dealt with..."

"Surely you don't believe he was the only one of his kind?" Severus was horrified.

He suffered from flashbacks, seeing himself as a child in this very office after Black's prank, hearing Dumbledore's placations and promises there would be no more incidents like it.

He was doing the same tonight, Snape realised with a jolt. Harry was no longer of any use to him, and thus his safety was barely an issue. Though Timms had been expelled where Black had not, nothing more had changed. The Headmaster was putting yet another of the Snape line in jeopardy, though he didn't know it.

Severus smirked to himself. If Albus only knew...Perhaps he would, in time...but, oh, if he only knew how he was repeating history...Would he gasp in shock? Would he feel guilty?

"My dear boy, I am glad you have worked past your animosity with young Mr. Potter, but to question my authority-"

"Forgive me, Albus." Severus concealed a sneer, and formed a quick plan in his mind. "But I worry for the child he carries. Imagine what might happen once she is born. Many of Potter's remaining foes will practically salivate at the thought of harming his heir...And, if there are others lurking in Hogwarts -as I have no doubt that there are- it is our duty to ensure they cannot harm either of the Potters." He paused, before deciding to end on a lighter note. "And, aside from the dangers, we must consider the needs of Potter's dorm-mates. They might not approve of a crying child sharing their sleeping space. He must be allocated another room."

Here, Albus smiled. "Ah, Severus, I believe I have a solution..."

As he left the older man's office later that night, Severus sighed to himself. Dumbledore's 'solution' was clearly intended as a reminder that he was in charge, and Severus would do best not to question his actions.

Little did he know that he'd reacted in just the way Snape had expected him to.

And, this way, he'd be able to spend time with his daughter.

Albus was definitely losing his touch.

**-?-**

The end of term was nearing, and Harry no longer waddled around the corridors alone. Snake always accompanied him, as did Ron or Hermione. Severus, when he could, lurked in the shadows.

Though Harry was grateful, he couldn't help feeling smothered.

At least the Christmas holidays would soon be upon them. He'd receive more private time then; especially with Ron and Hermione going home for the break.

Thoughts of Snape Manor, covered in snow, filled his head, and he sighed longingly.

If only...

Perhaps, because they were friends, Severus might invite him to return...But it seemed doubtful. The man had been avoiding him again.

Certainly, he lurked in the shadows, making sure that he, Harry, was always safe...but he rarely spoke to him directly any more.

He was probably just busy marking assignments...but Harry still missed the contact.

So it was then, on the last night of term, Harry made his way towards the Slytherin's quarters, sneaking about under his father's cloak, so that he might travel alone. He'd sent Snake off earlier, knowing that she missed going on the hunt, and he'd left Hermione and Ron a note, should they come looking for him. He doubted that they would -it was their last chance to spend the night together until school returned- but the note was there, just in case.

Checking the coast was clear, he shed the cloak and tapped on the door.

"Enter."

He complied.

Severus sat by a roaring fire, a book in hand. He glanced up as Harry entered, then frowned when he realised the boy was alone.

"You came without an escort?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and waddled to the chair beside his professor's. "It was perfectly safe." He said, holding up the cloak. "I had this."

Snape's scowl deepened. "Foolish boy, it's not merely an issue of physical protection that others escort you." He reached forward to place a pale, elegant hand on Harry's extremely large belly. "You could fall or harm yourself, and not a soul would know where you were...or, worse still, you might fall into labour, and, again, nobody would be able to send for help, as we wouldn't know where you were, nor what condition you were in."

Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't even _thought_ of that!

"I'm sorry...I...I didn't think..." He blushed, and averted his gaze. "I just...I missed you." A sharp kick signalled that it wasn't just him that missed the other wizard. They shared a smile. "_We_ missed you."

Severus removed his hand, and nodded, "Indeed."

There was silence. The fire crackled and hissed merrily. It was peaceful in Severus' chambers, Harry decided.

He received another sharp jab somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys. He rubbed absent-mindedly at the sore spot. His daughter had been overly active all day. He hoped it wouldn't become a routine for her...his insides couldn't handle the abuse!

"Albus has suggested a new living arrangement for you." Severus eventually informed him, piquing his interest.

He'd been wondering what would happen when the baby finally arrived. "Oh yeah?"

Snape nodded. "You are to move into my chambers. A new room has already produced itself. The walls are shifting to include a nursery as we speak."

Harry goggled at him. "What?" He asked, rubbing at the site of yet another sharp internal attack. "Does he know-"

Severus actually chuckled, taking him by complete surprise. "No. That's the beauty of it. He sees it as a 'punishment' for my insinuations that he no longer cares for your safety."

The Headmaster's words echoed in his ears. _"Seeing as you and young Harry have overcome your differences, it seems only logical that you share your quarters with the boy, and help him with his child."_

Severus, naturally, had protested. If he hadn't, the old fool might have become suspicious, and that would have ruined everything.

Harry was glad he was seated, else he might have fainted in shock. "That's...amazing." He pondered for a moment, "When can I move in?"

"Your belongings will be brought over tomorrow. I had planned to surprise you then, after your peers had left."

Somehow, Harry managed to lunge out of his seat, and into the older wizard's lap. "Oh, Sever-OUCH!" He stroked the base of his spine. "That hurt!"

"What did?" Severus was uncomfortable with having the boy so close. Perhaps this _was_ a bad idea to share his rooms...

"She kicked me..._really_ hard. Been at it all day."

Snape placed his own hand on Harry's stomach, and the boy winced, though he, himself, felt nothing.

"Harry," he met the younger wizard's eyes, "Have you considered the possibility that a number of these 'kicks' might, in fact, be labour pains?"

The teenager's eyes widened. "Er...no..." However, _that_ made sense; some of the pains _had_ been too sharp and isolated and almost cramp-like in nature to be his daughter's feet...

Suddenly he was panicking. He didn't _want_ to give birth yet! He hadn't braced himself for the pain! He hadn't even _begun _sorting out clothing or, worse yet, furniture! Sweet Merlin, where would she sleep!

"Potter...Harry..." Snape was saying, "Deep breaths now..." On some level, Harry realised he was hyperventilating, "You've no reason to distress yourself yet...At least, not until the temporary birth canal forms..." For then Harry knew he'd experience true pain...and there'd be blood...so much blood...

He whimpered, and clutched at Severus' robes, burrowing his face deep into the older man's neck. "I can't do this anymore..."

Awkwardly, Severus rubbed circles on Harry's back. "Nonsense...The entire ordeal will be over before you know it...and you will receive a charming infant for your efforts." He rolled his eyes as he spoke; newborn infants were a far cry from 'charming'. Red, wrinkled and squalling, on the other hand...

"Severus, I _can't_...I'm not strong like you..."

"Potter..." He tried, his tone one of warning.

Harry took no heed.

"I'm not! _You've_ suffered at Voldemort's hand more times than I can possibly imagine...And _I'm_ afraid of giving birth! I'm a coward!" Another wave of pain, seemingly more pronounced than its predecessors, washed over him, and he cried out, rubbing at his stomach. "I can't do this..." He wept tears of fear, "I can't..."

Severus, desperate to calm the hysterical lad, acted upon instinct, and placed his lips gently upon Harry's.

It wouldn't be until he held his daughter in his arms the next morning that he'd realise what he'd done.

* * *

A/N- Alright, I've never experienced contractions, so if the description is a bit hazy…well…at the time of writing this (the first time) I hadn't looked into it too much. However, the excuse I'm going to use is that Harry wouldn't have had any reason to know what to expect either, and thus, didn't put much thought into the pain… (Since writing this, I have been given vivid descriptions of labour and contractions from friends, but I felt it best to leave it as it was…There's some truth to it, or so I'm told, but again, I like having the vague descriptors to bring attention to Harry's confusion and panic...) 

Oh, and if anyone spots the major (and I mean MAJOR) plot-hole I put forth in this chapter (like I just have on this re-read), keep it to yourself. LOL. I am re-editing a previous chapter to fix my mistake as we speak. Once I have posted it, nobody will ever be able to spot it. MWAHAHAHAHAHA... (Smirks)


	9. Perfect Girl

A/N- Well, we're almost there now. This is the second last chapter, so we're pretty much at the end. Again.

To those reading _The Tension and The Spark_, I promise Chapter 9 will be up very soon. I'm tying up loose ends in the chapter now.

MAJOR SLASH WARNING! Though I doubt anyone with a slash-phobia will be reading at this stage, I feel obliged to warn you that this is a fairly descriptive chapter and that it's a very high M 15+ rating. Hint hint: NO COMPLAINTS. You've seen the warning.

* * *

Many hours had passed since the kiss, without either man paying it any particular attention. Harry was in too much pain for the majority of the time, and Severus, for his part, was too anxious to see his daughter brought into the world to notice what he'd done.

Poppy had been summoned when the birth canal began to form. It was better that Harry deliver his child in the privacy of Severus' rooms, rather than in the public arena that was Hogwarts' hospital wing.

Dumbledore wouldn't be notified until well after the babe was born.

_Let the old fool remain oblivious,_ Severus thought to himself. It was exactly what he deserved. _Omniscient my arse!_

The hours had trickled by at an excruciatingly slow rate. Harry seemed to be in a constant state of pain. Poppy assured them that the first birth was always the worst. Severus wondered, idly, whether she suspected there'd soon be more.

The very instant he'd thought it, a thousand uninvited images swirled about in his head.

There was his Harry; emerald eyes shimmering with unspoken joy, hand resting on the swell of his belly. A little girl with his eyes and Harry's hair tugged at his pregnant mate's robe, whilst another child, this time a boy, chased a familiar snake around their ankles.

It was the picture of domestic bliss, and it scared him.

"Come now, Harry, breath for me..."

He vaguely heard Poppy repeating the words he'd used all those hours ago. But, at the next phrase, he was instantly alert.

"She's almost there, dear, not long now."

Severus felt completely useless. Here he was, clutching the son of his deceased rival's hand, awaiting the moment that said boy gave birth to _their_ daughter, and he could do nothing to help.

He could only watch as the Gryffindor's face contorted in agony. He could only listen as Harry howled and cried out for relief. There was nothing more he could possibly do, and it frustrated him. He was a _Potions_ _Master_, for Merlin's sake, but there was nothing more he could offer the boy until _after_ the ordeal, and by then it would be too late. Harry would still have felt the pain. And he would always remember it.

Severus no longer remembered that this was completely Harry's doing -that the Gryffindor and Draco had brought it about themselves- and not his doing at all.

The hand he clutched squeezed at his own, and the nails, though short, felt as if they had pierced his skin. But he barely felt it, for, at that moment, a low, keening cry -almost a mewling sound- had broken the air, and his heart had swelled.

Harry's hand fell limp against his for a moment, before half-heartedly gripping down once more. Severus looked to Poppy.

"It's alright, Harry, down hill from here. You've just got to pass the afterbirth now..." The Mediwitch soothed, whilst cleaning off the small, red, squirming creature, otherwise known as the heir to Potter and Snape. "A simple task, after what you've just done..."

Severus stopped listening as Poppy brought his daughter, swaddled in a plush green blanket -probably from his personal linen closet- closer, so that the child could meet her parents...and vice-versa.

Someone gasped; Severus vaguely recognised the sound as his own. However, he was far too preoccupied with the infant now soundly nestled against Harry's chest. She was pink and wrinkled, and definitely didn't resemble anything _human _as of yet...but, to Severus, she was perfect...

Well, almost perfect. It seemed that she'd, rather unfortunately, inherited his nose!

Harry, too, had noticed the facial feature -how could he not?- and smiled tiredly at the older wizard. "She's yours alright..." He quipped, cautiously stroking her nose with the tip of his pinkie. "So cute..."

Severus grimaced. _Cute?_ Harry was clearly delusional. Poppy must have slipped him a few potions already.

_Although, _he thought, turning his gaze back to his daughter, _on her, the Snape nose mightn't be **quite** as bad..._

It was still hard to tell...perhaps, in a few weeks, she'd grow into it...It might even _suit_ her...

Merlin, Severus hoped it would.

"You want to hold her?"

Snape looked at the younger wizard, his face devoid of emotion. "Hmm?"

Cautiously offering the infant forward, Harry's smile broadened slightly. "Do you want to hold your daughter?"

"Naturally." Severus was back to himself within seconds. He carefully removed the bundle from the younger man's arms and instinctively held her to his chest.

She was so small...so light...so fragile...

So _his_.

Feeling the weight of Severus' gaze, she opened her eyes and stared back at him, causing him to take another sharp breath.

Her eyes! He'd never seen such a dark hue on a baby! On some level he'd suspected she'd inherit his eyes, but he'd not been prepared for such a calculating stare! She was merely minutes old, for Merlin's sake! Had his own gaze been so unnerving at that age? Had his own eyes conveyed such intelligence back then, as hers did now?

It was vaguely disturbing, and yet it was satisfying at the same time. After all, Lily's eyes would not have been anywhere near as fitting for _his_ daughter.

No; this tiny being was a Snape through and through. And, while he was certain that she'd take after Harry on some level, Severus knew that she would do the Snape name justice.

And she _would_ be a Snape in title. He and Harry had already made that decision, though they dreaded the media backlash it would cause.

Why wouldn't they at least hyphenate her surname? At Harry's insistence, of course. While he cared deeply for the memory of his father, he despised the following that the Potter name drew. Certainly, the entire Wizarding world would know of her Potter lineage, but the Snape title demanded a respect of privacy that 'Potter' did not.

"Congratulations, Severus." Poppy had moved to his side, to observe the child. "She's genuinely remarkable."

He offered the woman a fleeting smile. "Thank you."

"And her name?"

The Slytherin opened his mouth to reply, and hesitated. Though they'd made their decision weeks earlier, Severus felt that Harry deserved the final say.

"That," he began quietly, his gaze trained on his daughter, "Is for her _other_ father to divulge."

Poppy grinned, and nodded in Harry's direction. "Poor dear's worn out." She said, "Fast asleep. I doubt he'll be doing any divulging for a while."

Severus surprised her with a grin of his own. "Then we wait."

**-?-**

Harry awoke many hours later to the setting of the sun. He was disoriented, at first, and alarmed to find that his baby no longer resided within him. But slowly the memories came back, and he closed his eyes, allowing his brain to process the information.

He was officially a parent. He'd given birth to a perfect little girl.

His relieved smile became a grimace; oh, how his lower body ached! The birth canal was mending itself, turning him back into a relatively normal male once more, and causing a large amount of discomfort as it did so.

But, of all the sensations and memories that flowed through him, there was one that stood out amongst the others: Severus had kissed him.

He'd placed his lips down and sent Harry's mind reeling. Then there had been a tongue, cool and soft, gently pressing against his lips, begging entry...And he -Harry- had obliged.

The kiss hadn't been overtly passionate, but it _had_ felt genuine.

And it had been good.

Harry licked his lips.

Oh, Merlin, had it been good.

"How are you feeling?"

Severus' voice startled him from his musings, and he felt his cheeks burn involuntarily.

After all, the man _could_ read minds...

He cleared his throat. "Like I've been hit by the Knight Bus and then trampled by a hippogriff." This elicited an invisible smirk, and he offered a smile of his own. "I've survived worse."

"Indeed." By now Severus had moved to the foot of the bed, and he sat down gently. "The saviour shall rise again."

Harry pulled a face. "Do you have to?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

Harry shook his head, the smile on his face once more, then glanced around the room. "Where is she?" His eyes, Severus noticed, sparkled with unspoken pride.

"The nursery, sleeping soundly."

"Oh..."

"She'll wake soon enough for another feeding." Severus' thumb was rubbing circles over Harry's own. He realised, vaguely, but didn't stop. "I took care of the first couple...It didn't seem fair to wake you."

"Oh..." Harry was now preoccupied with the slender fingers caressing his own. "Er, thanks."

His skin tingled.

"Madame Pomfrey enquired on her name."

"Ah..." The younger wizard struggled to tear his gaze from Severus' lips. "Did you-"

Snape responded before the sentence was complete.

"No." He paused for a moment, as if considering the ramifications of his next sentence. "I felt that privilege belonged to you."

Emerald eyes, shining with adoration, met obsidian. "Severus, I-"

"Don't." Severus released Harry's hand and rose abruptly. At the boy's pained look, he sighed and dropped back down. "Not yet."

Why, oh _why_, must he continually fuel the brat's hope?

"But I-"

"I _know_, Harry." His reply was, perhaps, a little more harsh than he'd have liked, and he sighed again. "Now is simply not the right time."

Harry pouted. What _was_ the 'right time', then? And if Snape was so opposed to discussing his feelings, _what_, exactly, had that kiss been about? Not to mention the touching, and the oh-so meaningful glances...

"Severus," he tried again, "Please..."

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes. It was a warning sign. "Leave it, Potter, if only for now."

Harry moved to push the issue further, but was distracted by an unfamiliar sound. He soon realised that it was his daughter's cries, and moved to retrieve her. Long, pale, surprisingly strong arms pressed him back.

"It will do you no good to rush around just yet." Severus explained, as he exited the room.

He returned shortly with the baby, carrying a bottle in his spare hand. Placing the bottle on the nearest surface, he gently sat down at Harry's side.

Within moments he'd transferred the sobbing infant into the younger man's arms, and helped him to hold her correctly, so that her head was properly supported.

Harry savoured the feeling of Severus' arms around his, but found that his attention was soon focused solely on the baby in his arms.

Everything about her intrigued him, from her tiny fingers to her not-so-tiny nose. She really was gorgeous.

Harry had a hard time grasping the notion that she truly was his.

His and Severus'.

Their perfect little girl.

Any fears of Severus despising her that remained vanished. After all, how could he even fathom disliking an angel like her?

Harry glanced up into the older man's eyes, searching for confirmation. He didn't have to look very far, for, in Severus' dark eyes, he easily found amazement and joy for their daughter.

"I don't regret it..." The words left his lips before he could think.

Severus arched an eyebrow as he passed the bottle towards the younger wizard. "Indeed?"

He felt the blush rising on his cheeks. "I just...I didn't mean to..." He shifted his gaze to his daughter, who now suckled noisily at the teat of the bottle. "She's perfect." He hesitated, but Severus allowed him time to consider his phrasing. "I...well...until just now...I've doubted...everything, actually. Am I too young? Am I complicating your life? Is it fair to bring her into the world, when I can't give her the life she deserves?" He sighed, and shifted into a more comfortable position, his eyes never leaving the nursing infant. "But now...I can't help being selfish...And I can't regret...doing what I did."

It was a long spiel, but, once over, Harry felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Severus nodded sagely. He knew exactly how Harry felt.

"Pardon me, sir," a voice interrupted, "but there are students at the door." It was the portrait that stood guard at the entrance to Snape's chambers. He reminded Harry of Sir Cadogan, despite the fact that he was clearly a notable wizard, and _not_ a hyperactive and delusional knight.

Severus turned to face the portrait that his doorman had chosen to inhabit for the discussion. "Thank you, Lord Brychan...Though, I'd prefer it if they were dismissed. I'm rather busy at this moment."

Lord Brychan shook his head. "It's of no use. They are adamant that they speak with you." He stared pointedly in Harry's direction. "I believe they are searching for young Master Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. Of _course!_ He hadn't told anyone, not even Snake, of his plans to visit Severus the previous evening! "Whoops..."

Snape, having read Harry's reaction accurately, sent him a withering glare. Rising to his feet, he turned back to the portrait. "Very well, let them in. I'll greet them in the sitting room. And you," he turned back to Harry, who was now gently attempting to burp their daughter, "will have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know..." Harry diverted his gaze and pouted. It didn't have the desired effect.

"Potter," Severus sighed, "I'm not making any excuses on your behalf. I made my opinion of your sneaking about perfectly clear last night."

Harry knew better than to argue with him, so he nodded sullenly, and went back to cradling their daughter as Severus left the room.

**-?-**

Hermione leapt to her feet and threw herself into Severus' arms when he entered the room. "Oh, Professor Snape!" She cried, clinging to his robes, "Harry's nowhere to be found! We've looked everywhere-" here she gestured towards Ron and, surprisingly, Draco, "-and there's no sign of him! And considering what happened last time he went off on his own..." She took a deep breath, then, noticing her position, blushed and took a step backwards. Averting her gaze, she added. "We didn't know where else to go."

Severus noticed that, while it was left unsaid, the message that it should be important to him -considering the genealogy of the child that Harry had been carrying- was loud and clear. He fought the urge to sneer at the girl. After all, she was only acting out of concern for her friend. He opted, instead, to arch an eyebrow in calm condescendence.

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger." His voice concealed his vague amusement. "Mr. Potter, though incredibly stupid, is fine. Rather tired, and probably experiencing some degree of pain, but in no danger, I assure you."

Her eyes widened. At first he thought she might have jumped to the wrong conclusion, however, when she spoke, it was clear that her mind was as sharp as ever.

"He's had the baby!" She exclaimed, her voice shrill. "Oh, Sir!" Forgetting herself, she tossed her arms around the stoic man once more, this time hugging him excitedly. "Congratulations!" Pulling away, she sighed. "Oh, I'm so _relieved_..."

"Quite." Severus punctuated the drawl by picking an abstract piece of hair -undoubtedly Hermione's- from his robes, and discarding it with a look of distaste.

"So he's alright, then?" Ron finally joined the conversation, also looking rather relieved.

"As well as can be expected."

The redhead grinned. "Good."

"It was still a stupid move to bugger off without telling anyone." It was Draco who spoke this time. "He was lucky he didn't go getting into any trouble, the idiot."

Ron moved to protest, but stopped when a sleek, shiny head emerged from under Draco's robe. Snake hissed at the boy, before sniffing the air...And then she was off, down the insides of Draco's robes, and speeding past their ankles...

It didn't take the assembled seventh years long to work out why.

"Can we see Harry?" Hermione asked, turning an imploring gaze onto her Professor. "Please, Sir?"

Severus fought the urge to deny them access. After all, he had already told his young guest that he'd let them through...more or less. He sighed. "If you must." He paused for a moment. "I don't think I need to remind you to remain quiet," he shot a look at Ron and Draco, "or _civil_."

They shook their heads in unison, then allowed him to lead the way into the master bedroom.

Harry was sitting up in bed, waiting for them. He'd already received an earful from Snake regarding his recklessness and insensitivity, and he knew there'd be more to come from his friends.

Hermione was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. "You gave us all quite a scare..." She chided, her voice soft. "But, given the circumstances..." she peered down at his daughter, "I'll spare you the rant."

"Thanks," he replied, offering her a small grin.

"Let's see her, then." Ron demanded, moving up beside the bed.

Harry shifted, so that his daughter's face became visible to his friends. Ron and Hermione gasped.

"Merlin, mate, you can't half tell who her Daddy is, eh?"

Harry beamed at Ron's response. "She's perfect, isn't she?" He glanced down to stroke her cheek, missing the mortified look Ron sent to Hermione. He also missed her return scowl.

"I think she's adorable, Harry." The female of the trio put in, shooting her boyfriend a look that oozed the message: 'and you'd best believe it'.

Thankfully, the redhead didn't argue.

"Did a good job, didn't I?"

Draco's comment was spoken so quietly that Harry almost missed it. He glanced back at the blond, catching his eye.

Draco really puzzled him. There were so many extremes to his personality...and he was _always_ prepared to speak his mind...and yet he kept most important things to himself, as if telling others would be the cause of his ultimate demise.

Harry raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the comment, before turning back to the other two.

He and Draco would talk later.

"The Mediwitch approaches," Lord Brychan announced half an hour into the students' discussion. He had already been told that she was to be let into Snape's chambers, regardless as to whether she knew the password or not.

Severus gave Harry's guests a pointed look. "And that, _children, _is your cue to leave."

Hermione looked as though she might argue, but it was Ron who responded first. "Yes, Professor," he all-but-sneered, grabbing his girlfriend's arm. "Harry needs his rest. Can't be doing him any good, us pestering him like this."

The other Gryffindor, surprised by Ron's thoughtful demeanour, was forced to agree.

"Well done, Weasley." Draco added, making his way back into the living room. "Granger's clearly trained you well."

Only Severus caught the blond's grin as the other two gave chase, intent on hexing him well into the next week.

He almost grinned himself. A _Malfoy_ befriending a _Weasley_. It obviously hadn't been intentional. More than likely, it was the effects of a wicked plan to destroy the Golden Trio gone horribly wrong, and he hadn't noticed until it was far too late.

No, that was rather far-fetched. _Even_ in the world of witchcraft and wizardry.

In actuality, he probably just wanted to bed Ginevra.

That, naturally, made far more sense.

"Shall I send her through, Sir?" Lord Brychan cut into his musings.

He glanced at the Monet from which the portrait was speaking. "Madame Pomfrey?" He queried, then mentally slapped himself. "Of course."

When he turned back, he found that Harry was grinning at him.

"Wipe that look from your face at once."

This only caused the boy to laugh.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry winced through his chuckles, clutching at his belly, "Oh, you're so _cute_ when you're cranky!"

There it was again! That damnable 'c' word! Severus scowled. Of course, that only served to make Potter's eyes twinkle merrily.

He tried to make excuses for the boy; perhaps the potions were still in his bloodstream? Perhaps one of his 'friends' had slipped him a Zonkos or Weasley product? Perhaps Malfoy had hexed him?

Somehow, nothing seemed plausible.

"I will not allow you to speak to me in that manner."

Harry took one look at the man's frown, the half-pout of his thin lips, and his folded arms...and giggled again.

"I'm sorry," he tried, biting his lip, "But I can't help it...I can't help how I feel...How _you_ make me feel..."

Severus felt even more awkward to hear Poppy interrupting.

"Now, now, Harry, dear...You're bound to be feeling a little -How shall I say it?- _excitable_ for the next few days as your hormone and testosterone levels even out again..."

Harry and Severus groaned in perfect unison. Harry because he _hated_ feeling so..._frustrated_, and Severus because he knew that the boy's recent display was only the beginning...and he'd _volunteered_ to share his living quarters!

Madame Pomfrey sent them each sympathetic glances, which did nothing to ease either man's situation.

"Let's get a good look at the poppet, then." The Mediwitch said, moving towards the infant. To Severus' extreme displeasure she cooed at her. "Aren't you just a precious bundle?" She asked, making that wretched 'baby voice'.

"She may be a Snape, and thus possesses a superior intellect to most, but I doubt she can understand your foolish ramblings."

Poppy shot him another glance, this time hostile. "Really, Severus!" She admonished, cradling the baby against her chest. "Your ignorance amazes me!"

"Just do your bloody job, woman. I'm in no mood to be insulted today."

Again, he was vaguely aware of Potter's stupid grin, but chose (rather wisely, in fact) to ignore it.

Poppy 'harrumphed', and waved her wand over the child, smiling faintly at the information that formed on her clipboard, which hovered in the air beside her.

"And now, Harry, your turn."

She shifted the wand to her other patient, and repeated the process.

"Good," she muttered. "Very good."

Severus, who was now quite keen to evict the woman from his chambers, nodded. "I take it all is in order?" It was spoken as a statement; one which did not require a response.

However, Poppy had other plans in mind. "Yes, Severus. All but one _vital_ piece of information."

To say that his patience was wearing thin would be understating the issue. He glowered at the woman and asked, through clenched teeth, "And what might that be?"

Poppy looked back at him, smiling in that infuriating way of hers. "Her name, Severus. The documents cannot appear in the registry without it."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned to the younger wizard. "Go on, then."

"Are you sure?" Harry radiated excitement. This would make it all official. Once he told Madame Pomfrey, the birth certificate would appear in the Ministry, and there would be no going back.

Severus softened his expression and nodded.

Glowing with excitement, Harry turned his attention back to the Mediwitch.

"Charlotte." He said, voice wavering slightly. "Charlotte Maria Snape."

**-?-**

Needless to say, once the birth certificate appeared deep in the bowels of the Ministry, Charlotte's name and date of birth (December 16, 1997) formed in slinky green calligraphy on the school's enrolment list, and a manipulative old wizard was waiting for it.

"Ahh," He said, peering down at the magical parchment, "Charlotte." He leant back in his seat and gazed out the window. "A fine choice, my boys. Very fine indeed."

An owl, dark as a raven, flew to his window. He'd been expecting him.

"Ah, Demetrius, I already know the news...And it appears-" he rose to his feet, "-that I must now go and greet Hogwarts' new arrival."

Demetrius eyed him in a manner almost identical to his owner, the Potions Master.

"Do not fret, my friend. Your family remains safe with me."

The bird didn't look convinced, and flew to Dumbledore's shoulder. He sensed a conflict of interests, and was bound to protect his masters and their young.

**-?-**

Harry and Severus sat on the bed, cradling their daughter between them. At a glance, anyone would assume that they were hopelessly in love and enjoying the moment of domestic bliss. But a closer look revealed the truth; they were horribly attracted to one another, and were sharing the moment awkwardly. Harry's hormones were wreaking havoc with his reaction to Severus' touch and scent, and Severus...Well, the poor man was scared witless by his new emotions towards both Harry _and_ their child.

"Severus..."

The man in question sighed. He didn't want to discuss the possibility of a relationship. Not until he had at least addressed his emotions first. "Potter?"

"I...I want..."

"I know what you want, boy. You heard Madame Pomfrey. The issue will fix itself within a few-"

"No!" Harry's cheeks were scarlet. "No...I want-"

"Sirs, the Headmaster has arrived."

_Thank Merlin!_ Severus looked at the portrait. "Thank you, Lord Brychan. Send him in. We'll meet in the lounge." Without waiting to hear Harry speak again, he gently placed the baby completely in her other father's arms and exited the room.

**-?-**

"Ah, Severus, congratulations my boy!" The old wizard's eyes twinkled merrily. "And such a beautiful name..."

"You've kept your eye on the book." Severus' tone relayed his utter lack of surprise.

Albus nodded, "That I have."

Demetrius flew across to his master's shoulder, where he trained his gaze onto the Headmaster.

Severus was not concerned about the other wizard's choice to not comment on the lineage of Harry's child. After all, he'd probably been snooping about many months beforehand. He remained silent, patiently waiting for the older man to ask the inevitable question.

"May I see her?"

_Right on cue_, Snape thought scornfully.

Knowing that Harry was wide awake -and most likely incredibly agitated- Severus feigned a thoughtful pose. "I will check on Potter," he eventually replied, deliberately taking his time. "He may not be feeling up to taking visitors just yet." It was a damn lie, and both men knew it, but Albus was on Severus' turf, and the younger wizard silently dared him to challenge his authority.

The Headmaster merely nodded and offered an empathetic smile. "Naturally."

With a nod of his own, Severus turned and stalked out of the room and back towards his newfound family.

Harry half-smiled as he entered the bedroom. "Has he left yet?"

"Of course not. He'd like to meet our daughter." Though the words were uttered in derision, Severus couldn't help but feel tongue-tied at the last two. It was surreal. She was his. His and Harry's.

_Theirs_.

James Potter would be turning in his grave.

The thought brought a smirk to his lips.

There were some positives -other than the infant herself - after all.

Snape shook the thoughts from his head; Harry was speaking. "And he hasn't barged in yet because…?"

"Because he knows that if he even attempts it, he will be evicted from my quarters and will have lost his award-winning Potions professor."

Harry's eyes widened. "Award-winning?"

Allowing the ghost of a smile to fleet across his face, Severus nodded. "That is a conversation best left to another time."

"Alright..." Harry sounded dejected. He waited a beat. "Are you going to get him so we can get this over and done with?"

"If I must."

Harry hid a smirk; Severus could really act like a petulant child sometimes. "I'll make up something to get rid of him as soon as possible." He assured the older man. "After all, I really do need my sleep."

Severus nodded, his eyes gleaming with unspoken mirth. "Indeed..."

**-?-**

A week or so later found Harry attempting to settle into his new room in Severus' quarters. He'd decorated it himself, choosing to model it on the one in which he'd stayed at Snape Manor; a fact that did not go unnoticed by Snape himself. But, despite the warm and inviting nature of the decor, Harry could not help but feel uncomfortable and out of place. And the fact that his hormones were out of control wasn't exactly helping either.

He sighed to himself and slumped into the nearest armchair.

Everything had been going so well. When did it all change?

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. "It's open," he called, "Come in."

"Potter," Draco's head emerged from behind the door, shortly followed by the rest of his body. "Severus said you were hiding in here..."

The Gryffindor frowned. "I am _not_ hiding." He crossed his arms and stared defiantly. "What do _you_ want, anyway?"

"Thought you might like some company..." Draco replied, easily ignoring the other boy's tone. He turned away, "But, if you'd rather sit here all alone..."

Harry sighed. "Stay." The blond smirked and dropped down onto the bed. Harry eyed him wearily. It still made no sense. _Why _would the Slytherin want to befriend him? Still, it felt good to have someone else to talk to... "Why are you still here?" He eventually asked. "In the castle, I mean. I'd have thought you'd be spending your hols in a chateau somewhere or something to that effect."

"It, er, gets rather lonely at the manor..." Draco looked away. "Severus suggested that I remain here for the break..."

"Fair enough."

Their eyes met and Harry searched Draco's for the slightest trace of malice. Not surprisingly, he found none. It had been that way for months now, and even Ron had commented on the change in his personality...though he maintained that Draco must have an ulterior motive for it.

"I don't envy you." The words escaped Harry's mouth before he could think. Draco arched an eyebrow in true Slytherin fashion. Harry blushed. "I mean, you used to have the life I wanted, but now..." He trailed off. That hadn't sounded right. "You knew your parents. You were happy. I envied that. But now...Now I think I'm the lucky one because I didn't get the chance to get attached to my mum and dad, so I didn't feel the loss like you..."

The blond quirked his lips. "My parents aren't dead; they're empty shells, rotting in Azkaban."

Harry rolled his eyes. "They might as well be dead, though. Once kissed…" He trailed off, not wanting to upset Draco. "I just…You must have felt some sense of loss...and, no matter what they were like, it was obvious that you had a good relationship with them…"

"Pfft. My father tried to have me branded." The Slytherin boy scowled, subconsciously rubbing his left forearm. "A _real_ Malfoy bows to no-one."

"Oh…" Harry didn't know how to respond. "I didn't know…"

Draco waved the comment away. "Don't bother. You weren't expected to know." He smiled slightly. "If you recall, you and I weren't exactly best of friends."

"Yes, well, that's changing, isn't it?"

Storm-cloud eyes widened in surprise, and Draco opened his mouth to reply, but found no words existed that might express an appropriate response. So he did the only thing he could think to do - he simply nodded, dumbfounded that Harry thought of him as a friend, especially after everything that he'd done over time.

Harry, feeling awkward after the clumsy comment, prepared to speak again, but was interrupted by the sound of his daughter's cries. He shot a look at Draco, who, by that stage, had recovered from the surprise.

"Well?" The blond asked, "Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to go to your kid?"

Harry couldn't help but grin as he left the room.

**-?-**

"Come on Charlie," Harry cooed a number of days later, "You know you want the bottle…"

It was well past midnight, and he was having an awful time trying to stop his daughter's screams.

"Please?"

Still she howled, and he fought the urge to do the same.

"Charlotte, baby, please…Your father needs sleep! _You_ need sleep!"

He didn't know _what_ her problem was. She didn't want to eat. She didn't need another change. She wasn't enjoying being held and sung to…_Nothing_ was working, and Harry was reaching the end of his tether.

"I don't know what you want," he told her, wishing that she could somehow articulate her problem. "I've tried everything…"

"Perhaps she's ill." Severus spoke from the doorway, and Harry almost jumped out of his skin in fright.

"Don't _DO_ that!" He said, briefly clutching his chest with one hand. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

The older man smiled tiredly and strode forward. "I didn't do it intentionally, I assure you."

"No, I don't suppose you did." Harry looked back at the screaming infant in his arms. "I doubt there was any chance of me hearing you approach over this racket."

"Indeed."

"I'm sorry we woke you."

Severus reached forward and took the baby into his own arms, so to give Harry a break. "Don't be stupid, Harry. It's not as if she's solely your responsibility." He ushered the younger man to the couch and sat him down. "We're doing this together, if you'll recall."

With a sigh, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know…It's just…We're invading your space…You had to put up with me while my hormones were out of whack and now-"

"You forget, Potter, that it was ultimately my choice to share my quarters. You are not invading. It is _our_ space now."

Harry couldn't help but beam at those words. They truly had become a family…albeit a dysfunctional one. "Thank you, Severus."

The older wizard nodded, before turning his attention back to their daughter. "Perhaps she _is _ill…"

Harry was immediately concerned. "She doesn't have a fever…"

"No," Severus agreed, feeling her skin tenderly, "However, it might be an internal problem…"

"Should we get Poppy?"

The Potions master paused to consider the suggestion. "Perhaps…" He stood and paced the room, patting Charlotte's back and jiggling softly. "Shh, little one…"

Harry settled back and watched the intimate display in silence. He'd not yet seen Severus interact like this with their daughter, despite the fact that he _knew_ how much the man adored her. Severus continued to pace and bounce, muttering reassurances every so often. He was clearly not disturbed by the continued wails, and, instead, seemed to possess an infinite patience for the cries.

"Should I firecall Poppy?" Harry eventually asked, hating to break the connection between father and child.

Severus spun around and opened his mouth to reply, but was prevented from doing so, as the baby chose that very moment to throw up all over his dressing gown. Rather than exploding in rage, Severus rubbed her back and murmured to her in the most soothing manner Harry had ever heard. She began to calm down almost instantly.

Turning to the younger wizard, Severus offered another tired smile. "I don't think that will be necessary, Harry. I believe the problem has solved itself."

Harry smiled back, relieved that his daughter was fine and that silence was returning to the room. "Good." He said, getting up from the couch, his eyes never leaving the older man's. "Good."

**-?-**

Harry woke up later that morning in Severus' bed, with the man's arm wrapped soundly around his body. They were both clothed entirely, which was not a surprise as he remembered the previous night rather well (where he had pathetically followed the older man, begging to share the bed for a sense of comfort and company), but he had unfortunately developed a rather…_hard_… problem that needed to be dealt with. Preferably before Severus woke up and regretted sharing his bed.

He tried to pull away, but found that moving only caused Severus to stir. He was a light sleeper, it appeared.

_Damn it!_

Harry would have to stay as still as possible and think highly un-arousing thoughts.

_Dumbledore_, he thought, _Dumbledore naked._ It was vile, but that was what he was aiming for. _Poppy! Poppy naked!_ He shuddered and Severus moved so that his arm was now low on his abdomen. _Just a little closer and…NO! _Suddenly Harry was hard again. So very hard. _Dumbledore,_ he tried to think, but the only images coming to him were of the impostor Severus, naked and writhing over him…_Oh, shit, bugger, fuck, wank, arse, head and hell!_ Now it ached with need. _Stupid vivid imagination._

He couldn't help but squirm.

"Damn it, Potter, can't you stay still?"

Severus was awake. Harry blushed. "Sorry," he said, turning to face the other man. It was a mistake, as they came nose to nose and Harry immediately remembered the kiss…the tongue, cool and soft…the way Severus tasted…and he moaned. Low and quietly, yes, but he'd still moaned, and his problem had, if it was possible, gotten worse.

Not surprisingly, Severus had caught the sound, though to his ears it sounded as though Harry was in pain. Concern filled his gaze.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Harry's face was now bright red. "No…not hurt…"

"Then why-" Severus took in the guilty look in the younger man's eyes and then made the connection. "Oh, bloody hell, Potter!" He exclaimed, then regretted the words at the wounded look on Harry's face. He hastily added; "Don't frighten me like that! I thought you were in pain!"

"Well, I'm not exactly comfortable…" Harry couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation, but he couldn't stop the words from forming on his lips. "I mean, I was fine…kind of…until I looked at you…Merlin, that sounds cheesy…but it's just…You're so fucking attractive and I remembered the way your lips felt against mine…and how perfect you've been through everything lately…and how sweet you were by sharing your bed last night, rather than turning me away…"

Severus listened to Harry babble, and watched the way the blush deepened with every sentence, and, instead of being irritated, Severus found that he found it attractive. He'd come to terms with his feelings towards the younger man many days earlier (though he hadn't found the right moment to admit it openly), but he was now feeling severely attracted to him…and was getting slightly hard himself, watching those lips moving, tempting him more than anything had done in a long time.

Yes, he knew the drawbacks to a relationship with Harry. Yes, he knew that there was so much against them…but it no longer bothered him. They were war heroes, for Merlin's sake! Society would just have to learn to shut up and keep their opinions to themselves.

Harry was still babbling. "…And…well…we're a family now, Severus…It was so obvious last night that we are…and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you -the _real_ you…I just…I want you…you know that…I don't want to make you uncomfortable…so I'll leave…Just, turn around, would you?"

Severus, by this stage, was looking at him like a predator, but Harry hadn't noticed.

"Potter," He began, leaning forward, "Shut up." And with that he lunged forward and captured Harry's lips with his own.

Harry was surprised, but responded to the kiss with a natural fervour. He whimpered as Severus pulled away to look him in the eye.

"Potter...Harry...Are you very sure that this is what you want? That _I_ am what you want?" Harry nodded and Severus offered him a small smile. "Because, once we've begun, I do not take well to giving up or sharing my partner."

Harry felt his heart leap into his throat. "You know that's not an option for me, Severus." In a bold move, he grabbed the man's hand and placed it over his aching erection. "This is what you do to me. What _only you_ can do to me." He swallowed, and gave a cheeky grin. "I love you, _sir_."

Severus grinned wickedly in response and kissed Harry hungrily; his hand massaging Harry's stiff member through the material of the younger man's pyjama pants.

Harry moaned and leant further into the contact. It was so good. He gasped as Severus pulled his pants down and continued his previous ministrations.

The touch was familiar, but there was an element of experience behind the real Severus' hands that Draco-Severus hadn't possessed.

Severus' kisses stopped and Harry opened his mouth to protest but his sounds of protest became a moan of approval as Severus took his weeping member in his mouth.

Harry soon discovered that Severus' tongue was capable of many wicked things, as were his lips and fingers.

A raw, familiar tension was building up within him, and he knew that it wouldn't be too long until it all became too much.

Then the pressure was there and he knew the moment was upon him.

"Oh, Merlin..." He panted, attempting to warn the older man, who no doubt knew what was about to happen anyway. "Fuck, I can't last any longer...Sever-" The last of the sentence was replaced by a loud exclamation as he came.

Severus, smirking smugly, moved back up to Harry's side and kissed him soundly. Harry could taste himself on Severus' lips and tongue, but it didn't bother him...especially not now that his wildest dreams were being fulfilled. He continued the kiss and moved his hand to Severus' erection, half expecting the instruction to stop immediately. But that never came and he picked up the pace in excitement.

Harry looked to Severus as his hand made its way to the warm flesh beneath the man's underwear, and smiled upon finding the older man's eyes closed in enjoyment and, ultimately, trust.

"Get on with it, Potter." Severus smirked. "You can admire me all you like once you've finished the job."

Beaming, Harry complied, and lowered his lips to the tip of Snape's erection. "Yes, _Professor_," he whispered, before getting back on task.

Severus Snape, he soon found, was much easier to please in he bedroom than in the classroom.

**-?-**

"Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"I…" A sigh. "Never mind."

Papers rustled. "What is it, boy?"

"I…Er…I want to talk about earlier…"

Another sigh; this time from the opposite side of the room, as Severus shifted in his seat to face his new-found lover. Surely the boy wasn't regretting it _already_… "I thought I'd made everything perfectly clear."

Despite himself, Harry grinned. "You did...But I…I just want to make sure you're sure it's what _you _want…Because, if it's not, tell me now and I'll…well…I'll try to come to terms with it."

"Foolish brat," The Head of Slytherin replied, shaking his head affectionately. "If I wasn't absolutely certain, I wouldn't have started it, would I?" Merlin, he sounded like a teenager! All this time spent with Potter was rubbing off on him, and he wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing.

The younger wizard hesitated, as if considering the logic behind the statement. "Well, I s'pose…But…I just…" He threw his free hand into the air, as his other was cradling their daughter. "I'm just cautious, is all." He tilted his head to the side and gave a half-hearted pout. "Do you really blame me? After all we've put each other through over the years?"

This time it was Snape's turn to consider the statement. "No…" He eventually replied. "I can imagine you're feeling rather…surprised…by my swift change of heart."

Harry shifted Charlotte into his other arm and offered his partner (But, Gods above, didn't it feel odd to think of Severus in that light!) a small smile. "Yes…Very surprised, actually…And I don't need to know _why _you changed your mind about us either…but I just needed to make sure it was real…That this morning wasn't some sort of elaborate wet dream or anything like that…"

Fighting the urge to chuckle, Severus nodded. "I assure you that this is all perfectly real, Potter. We are, as you've said, a family now. In every sense of the word." He offered a ghost of a smile at the glow of happiness his comment produced from his young lover. "However," his tone was intentionally stern, and he smirked as Harry's joyful expression faltered, "Our sexual relationship must be put on hold until once you've graduated. For a large number of moral reasons, you understand."

Harry, who had been looking forward to many more mind-numbing sexual encounters, pouted again. But he knew Snape was right. Despite the fact that everyone would assume they were sexually active (with their daughter as living proof), Harry knew that it would feel like a moral victory, and their true friends would believe and support them through whatever life through at them in the meantime.

And, besides, he could always take care of himself until he'd graduated…

Eventually he nodded in agreement. "Yeah…It'd be the right thing to do, wouldn't it?"

Severus nodded, then turned back to his marking, leaving Harry to contemplate over mental images of family life and domestic bliss.

**-?-**

The next morning, Harry and Severus' breakfast was interrupted by Lord Brychan's announcement that Draco was outside and demanding to be let in.

Harry chose to meet him in the living room, leaving Severus to dine in peace.

"Good Morning," Harry said, forcefully bright. "What do you want?"

Draco rolled his eyes and thrust the morning's _Prophet_ into Harry's grasp. "Front page. Thought you might like a little bit of warning before the howlers arrive."

Harry stared down at the headline.

**ABOMINATION IN HOGWARTS: Love Child Born To Potter and Snape**

"Fuck."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Need I say it?"

"Oh, sod off…" Harry waved him away and collapsed into the nearest seat. "This is terrible…Awful…Horrendous…" He looked up into the blond's eyes. "Really, really bad!"

Shaking his head, Draco dropped onto the seat next to him and patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Come on, Potter. Get it together. You knew this'd happen eventually."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think it'd be before term started!"

By this stage, Severus had finished his breakfast and made his way into the room. He looked between the two young men and asked the obvious question; "Is everything quite alright?"

Without thinking, Harry was out of his seat and in Severus' arms within moments, the paper discarded in his vacated seat. "Oh, what are we going to do?" He murmured into the older man's robes, seeking comfort in the awkward embrace.

Feeling uncomfortable, Severus glanced across at Draco. "And what, precisely, is the cause of…this?" He motioned to the shaking wreck that was Harry.

The younger Slytherin sighed and gestured to the paper, which had opened –upon falling- to an advertisement that read, '**Unhappy in Love? Worried that Mr/Mrs Right is morphing Mr/Mrs Wrong? Afraid that you might just need to turn your partner _back_ into a frog? Mistress Martha has just the solution! Firecall 372 Intern Alley for more information…**'

Snape arched an eyebrow.

"No, you git, the front page!" Draco sighed in exasperation, retrieving the discarded paper and thrusting the cover forward. "Don't you read the news?"

"The _Daily Prophet_," Severus sneered, eyeing the headline and accompanying photograph of the school with distaste, "Is hardly first-class journalism." He sighed. Still, it was one of the Wizarding world's more popular publications, though Merlin only knew why. "And yet, I can see the dilemma."

"Well there's a start."

Snape shot Slytherin's star pupil a withering glare. "Need I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, that I am still your teacher and Head of House, despite the holidays?"

"No, sir." Draco looked purposefully towards Harry, his eyes begging the question as to where the Golden Boy stood in the grand scheme of things.

Severus ignored him. "As to our current quandary," he led Harry to the nearest seat, "we knew this day would arrive, and we will continue to deal with it as we originally planned." He titled Harry's head so that the tearful green eyes met his own. "Is that quite clear, Potter?"

The Gryffindor nodded, though his lower lip quivered. He wasn't prepared yet! It was too soon!

"Potter," Severus tried, softening his tone. "Harry…"

Harry swallowed and titled his head to the side, afraid that if he spoke he'd cry.

"It _will_ sort itself out." Severus wished he could believe his own assurances. "We simply must remain strong in the face of it. I'm not promising that it will be easy, far from it to be sure, however, as with children…and wild dogs, any sense of weakness will bring far worse upon us."

"I know…I just…I thought we'd have 'til beginning of term to prepare ourselves…You know, psych ourselves up, or something?"

Here the older wizard shook his head. "This is not a Quidditch match, Potter. This is real life. You can't train…you take it as it comes." He fought a wince as the words left his mouth. What a bloody cliché! However, this seemed to shut the young man up, and thus Severus was pleased. He was not one for teenage angst…or any angst for that matter. No, instead he took everything in his stride. After all, he was a Snape, and Snapes did _not_ whine.

Much.

**-?­-**

For the next few days, Howlers and journalists haunted their every moment. The castle's wards were strengthened and Howlers were sent back (via a handy bit of magic from Dumbledore) to whence they came. Still, a few of each made their way through the barriers, and had to be dealt with on site, which was never pleasing or tidy.

On the sixth day Harry had had enough. "That's it!" He exclaimed, exploding yet another miscreant howler before it could upset Charlotte, "I've had it! I'll do an interview with bloody Skeeter for the Quibbler again, telling the truth…or near enough to it, at any rate!"

Severus looked at him in mild surprise. "Do you think that wise, Potter? Admitting to theft, impersonation, fraud and illegal conception may, unsurprisingly, cause yet another media backlash."

Harry paused to consider it for only a moment before another Howler found its way in, attached to the claws of a common post-owl. He shot a spell at it before it could open its flap, then turned, red-faced, to his partner. "Yes, actually, I _do_ think it's a good move." He folded his arms over his chest. "Let me clear your name at least. You deserve that much."

"Potter," Snape warned, shifting Charlotte in his arms, "What I deserve is none of your concern."

"That's absolute shit, Sev, and you know it!"

The older wizard narrowed his gaze. "Do _not_ call me by that name!"

Harry blushed, "Sorry…" He waited a beat. "But still, I _want _to give my version of the bloody story-"

"Which sounds more farfetched than the rumours they are spreading!"

The Gryffindor planted his hands on his hips. "I don't really care. I'm doing it. End of story."

Snape rolled his eyes, and set his attention back on his daughter. "Your father is a true Gryffindor." He told her matter-of-factly. "Do not, and I repeat _not_, grow up like him, or I fear it will drive me completely mad."

She gave him a wide, toothless grin and burbled.

"Yes, you're quite right," he said, leaning down conspiratorially, "I already am."

**-?-**

And so it was that, a few days later, Harry was sitting across from Rita Skeeter in Hogwarts' Great Hall. She was, once again, without her evil quill and under strict instructions to _only_ publish Harry's account as told to her, and _not_ any drivel of her own imagination.

"…And that's about it, really." Harry concluded, sending Rita a dazzling smile. (Hell, it wouldn't do him any harm, would it?)

She nodded, and finished her notes. "Thank you, Mr. Potter," She replied, smiling back at him. This exclusive meant big money to her, and for that she was grateful. "It was a pleasure to work with you again." Oddly enough, she was being completely honest.

The Gryffindor grinned. "Yeah, you too, actually."

They stood in awkward silence for a minute, before Harry spoke again. "You know…" he began, shuffling his feet in mock embarrassment, "It wouldn't hurt if you edited it just a little, to, you know, inspire sympathy or something? Make them all feel guilty for judging us without knowing the truth?"

Skeeter smirked wickedly, delighted to be allowed some creative input after all. She would not abuse his trust. Not this time, at any rate.

* * *

A/N- Right, before anyone comments on Severus' assumption that Draco has set his sights on Ginny despite his knowledge of Draco's preference in men, I'll argue that bisexuality is probably a common occurrence in my interpretation of the Wizarding world, as it is possible to produce offspring either way. LOL. This is just another way of getting out of a plot hole, but I have actually alluded to Malfoy's bisexuality in previous chapters, so technically there was never a plot hole to cover.

And on that note, please review!


	10. Dirty Little Secret

A/N- Well, we're here; the last chapter is upon us...And, yes, I have also updated _The Tension and The Spark_. Go on, tell me you love me...((Wink))

* * *

"Severus," Harry grinned a few days later, brandishing an all-too-familiar magazine. "Quibbler's here."

The older wizard entered the room, his daughter nestled safely in the crook of one arm. "This should be interesting." He drawled, exchanging the infant for the publication. It was clear that he was still sceptical. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I have every faith that she'll have done a good job."

Snape sighed. "Typical Gryffindor." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're far too trusting."

Harry chose to ignore the comment. Instead he pulled a face at his daughter, and told her that her Daddy was a mean, mean man.

Shaking his head, Severus turned his attention to Skeeter's drivel, hoping that his partner's plan might actually work.

'**Abomination In Wizarding World: True Happiness Condemned'**

Severus suppressed a smirk. Trust the Skeeter woman to be so bloody melodramatic! Still, when directed at the mindless drones that 'condemned' their relationship, this blatant approach might actually work.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he summoned a cup of Earl Grey, took a sip, then set about reading the rest of the article.

_'The Wizarding World has been in an uproar over the news that two of our prominent war heroes, Harry Potter and Severus Snape, have been_ _romantically_ _involved for some time. Further information concerning the existence of a child has increased the influx of howlers upon the couple and also upon Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. But, before we continue to denounce these men, we simply must ask ourselves whether this communal sense of outrage is justified, or whether society is out of line. Harry Potter, victim of our judgement, is inclined to reply with the latter_.

_'"It hurts, actually." Harry admits, casting his loving gaze towards his daughter. "People are making all these accusations without knowing the full story_._ All I ask is that they hear the truth first, before criticising my only family." _

_'Tears form in the young man's eyes; a haunting reminder of the pain he has already suffered at the hands of our society gone-wrong._

_''And just what is the truth?', one asks, having given the once-saviour of the Wizarding community time to collect himself. The young man sighs - he is not proud of his actions, but is responsible enough to admit to them. _

_'And so begins his tale...'_

Severus shook his head. Skeeter _really_ was a bit much...

Reading on, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Harry's account of their daughter's conception and their subsequent relationship was just as they had decided it would be: informative and honest, without going so far as to incriminate Draco, as well as emotive and heartfelt, without appearing desperate or over the top.

All in all, it seemed that Skeeter had done her job rather well. Certainly, she'd done so with all the subtlety of a stampeding herd of hippogriff, but it had been effective nonetheless.

The concluding paragraphs were most definitely the icing on the cake.

'_After hearing such a heart-wrenching admission from the boy we once called our saviour, can we really be so cruel as to judge him? Can we really sink so low as to condemn his happiness, especially when the man he loves, and who so clearly reciprocates the feelings, is nothing more than an innocent in this entire debacle? This reporter thinks not. _

'_We at** The Quibbler **support Misters Potter and Snape, and wish them all the best for the future. We can only hope that others can learn to set aside their prejudices also, so that our children can grow up in a supportive and safe environment_.'

Severus set the magazine aside. "It seems, Mr. Potter, that your foolish plan may just work."

Not wanting to appear childish, Harry bit back the urge to say 'I told you so', and merely smirked.

**-?-**

"Oi, Potter, good job with the _Quibbler_ piece."

Harry looked up from his position on the grass at the side of the lake and smiled warmly at his new companion. "Thanks Malfoy," he replied, patting the ground at his side. "Even Severus was impressed." He couldn't help but glow with pride at the comment. "_And_ we've been flooded with owls of apology...I've even received a few proposals for marriage, which is absurd, I know, but oddly comforting."

The Slytherin chuckled and settled down beside the other boy, lounging out in the sun, resting on one arm. "And what did _the_ _Professor_ think of them?"

Harry felt his cheeks redden at the playful taunt. "He pointedly ignored them, of course..." A rogue grin spread across his lips, "But I caught him burning them later on, when he thought I was asleep."

"Interesting..." Draco smirked. A hissing to his left caught his attention, and he forgot all about his plans to continue teasing the Gryffindor about his Head of House. "Hello Snake," he said, reaching out a hand to stroke her scales. "Been a while since I've seen _you_ out and about. I was beginning to think Snape had used you in a potion or three." Naturally he knew she couldn't understand him, but he couldn't help talking to her. He truly adored serpents; they'd always fascinated him, even as a small child. And Harry's snake really was a remarkable specimen...

"Harry, your wisssszard acquaintanssssce realisssssssessss that I cannot truly underssssstand hissss ramblingsssss, doessss he not?" Snake was observing Draco with something akin to exasperation.

Harry laughed. "I'm sure he does, Snake. He just likes you. A lot."

She nodded. It really was rather pleasant to be admired rather than feared. "I ssssupposssse it could be worsssse..."

"Of course." Harry smiled and reached out his arm, allowing her to slither up it and settle around his neck. "He did make a valid point, though..." He said, stroking her casually.

Snake tilted her head to the side. "Indeed?"

"MmmHmm."

"And what, pray tell, wassss thissss valid point?"

Harry grinned; he could still see similarities between his snake and his Potions Master-come-lover. "Only that you haven't been out and about very much of late..."

"I've felt no need to accompany you when your mate hasss been in the vissscinity." She almost huffed, which was extremely amusing to Harry, as it wasn't very often that one saw a snake get 'huffy'. "And I have had matterssss of my own to addressssss."

This admission immediately piqued Harry's interest. After all, what 'matters' could a bloody snake have to deal with?

"Really?" He asked. "Such as?"

Not impressed with her charge's tone, Snake slid back down his arm and shot him a contemptuous glare. "I no longer pry into your private matterssss, I assssk that you no longer pry into mine."

"Oh, Snake, I didn't mean to pry...I was just interested..." Harry was genuinely apologetic. He reached out to stroke her tail lovingly. "You're a good friend and I care about you very much, you see. But, even after all this time, I feel as though I know nothing about you..."

Snake calmed herself at his words. "I am ssssssorry, Harry. Thisssss 'friendship' you ssso often ssssspeak of issss new to me."

On the sidelines, Draco watched the interaction in awe. How he envied the Gryffindor's ability to speak the language of the serpents! Surely there must be a way to learn it himself!

Snake, meanwhile, was weighing up her options. Should she disclose her secret business with Harry and risk that he'd abuse her trust, or should she stick by her original plan and keep her private matters just that; 'private'?

"I will show you when the time issss right, Harry…" She eventually added. "At thisss moment, I am not yet prepared."

Harry nodded in response; extremely curious as to what secrets his snake was keeping from him. "I understand," he told her, earnestly. "Just don't think you have to hide things from me, okay?" he gave her tail a final pat. "If there's anything I can help with, let me know."

Snake flickered her forked tongue in appreciation. "Of courssssce, Harry." And as suddenly as she'd arrived, she left, weaving herself through the grass with speed and grace, towards the forbidden forest.

Harry watched after her, shaking his head with a smile. Snakes, especially his, were really quite odd.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Draco cut into his musings, eager to know what had just been exchanged between Harry and his semi-familiar.

The green-eyed boy glanced back at his companion and rolled his eyes. "She's a strange one, that snake of mine…And she's hiding something."

Draco's storm coloured eyes gleamed. He was always in the mood for a good snoop. "Do we follow her?"

"Malfoy!" Harry tossed a small stone at him in annoyance. "She'll tell me what's going on when she's ready. The last thing I want to do is lose her trust!"

Laughing, the Slytherin shook his head. "Fine…fine! Just don't get your knickers in a twist, Potter…"

Harry responded with a faux-glare, before joining the other boy in laughter.

And that was how Severus came upon them.

Severus approached the chuckling pair, Charlotte tucked neatly in the crook of his left arm. "Dare I ask what has you two rolling about on the lawn like first years?" He purred as he loomed over them, his shadow splaying across their faces.

The two young men sat up, and Charlotte gurgled happily at the sight of them, effectively ruining the surly image Severus so loved to portray.

Harry grinned. "Nothing important," he assured his lover, "honest."

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and sighed. Such was life when one's partner was seventeen.

"Indeed," He eventually replied, allowing his hand to fall back to his side. "In that case, once you've finished giggling like infants, you might like to join the staff for dinner in the hall."

At the very thought of food, Harry and Draco were on their feet. "We're done." Harry said, racing towards the castle, Draco on his heels. Turning around, he paused and shot Severus a brilliant smile. "Hurry it up, then!" He laughed at the scowl the comment had earned, and then turned back to chase after Draco (who had used the distraction to his advantage and taken the lead), leaving his daughter and lover in his wake.

**-?-**

At dinner, Harry and Severus introduced their daughter to the rest of the staff. Minerva had cooed over 'the cherub', as she called her, so much so that Harry had started to wonder how he might ever be intimidated in her classes again. That was, of course, until she pulled him aside and blasted him about the real conditions surrounding Charlotte's conception.

"I know," he said for what felt like the thousandth time as she berated him for his 'illegal' and 'highly immoral' actions. "I didn't think..." He averted his gaze, and scuffed his toe along the ground.

It was sad, really, as she'd been one of the most supportive teachers during his pregnancy, and now she was so disappointed in him...Not that he blamed her, though. She _was_ Deputy Headmistress after all, not to mention his Head of House, and the entire ordeal had occurred right beneath her nose...But that didn't mean her anger and stern words were going to hurt any less.

"I..." Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "S...Severus has forgiven me..." He tried, beseechingly. "And I wouldn't change any of it anyway...Not now she's here..."

Minerva appeared to soften slightly after that, though it was painfully clear that she did not approve of the relationship between her colleague and student.

After the twenty-third scowl in their direction, Severus snapped.

"Honestly, woman, just say it."

The Deputy Headmistress glanced back at him, attempting to appear perplexed. "I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"Don't play coy, Minerva, it doesn't become you." He sneered in response, discarding his napkin with more vigour than was necessary. "If you've something to say about my family, do so."

The rest of the staff watched the display with baited breaths. In the silence, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Severus had called him 'family' to his colleagues! If it hadn't been such a serious, tense moment, he might have kissed the Potions Master right then and there in glee! Only Dumbledore continued to eat his meal, as if two of his rival Heads weren't about to hex each other to smithereens.

McGonagall stiffened in her seat. "Your _family_, my dear child," she began, her tone strained, "is not only a misguided youth's mistake, but highly immoral on your part."

Severus parted his lips to respond, but Harry cut in first.

"I'll thank you not to ever refer to my daughter as a mistake again," he said coldly, clutching the infant to his chest as if to protect her from the woman's harsh words. "And, furthermore, not that it's any of your business, Severus has been _nothing_ _but_ morally and ethically sound through this entire ordeal. Go on, even ask Poppy!" He thrust a hand in the Mediwitch's direction. "Even when I was dying for a shag because of all the extra hormonal stuff, and shamelessly throwing myself at him, he refused me! He's made me promise to wait 'til I've graduated for all things lewd and carnal. Why, I ask, when we've already admitted our love to the world _and_ when we're the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl? Because, he says, it's the right thing to do. He won't even kiss me, you know that? Because, while I'm a student, it's inappropriate!" Harry was shaking now and Charlotte, picking up on the negative energy, as well as her father's raised voice, began to sob.

Without a word, Draco reached out and took her into his arms, shooting the Head of Gryffindor a scathing glance before rising from his seat and making his way to Snape's chambers. Harry and Severus would know to find him there.

"Potter, that's enough!" Minerva eventually cried. "I realise you've been through much more than any other young man your age, however-"

"No! No 'howevers'!"

Harry and the Deputy Headmistress were now yelling over the top of one-another, joined every few seconds by Severus interjecting his own opinion.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice cut into the fray like the sword of Godric Gryffindor himself.

The three antagonists fell silent immediately.

"There is nothing to be gained from acting like children."

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. Severus and Minerva, however, turned narrowed eyes on the Headmaster.

"Surely you don't actually support this union?" McGonagall reeled backwards, her Scottish brogue thick with shock. "Albus, Severus is the boy's _teacher_!"

Albus' voice was calm and steady. "Severus and Harry deserve happiness." As his deputy moved to argue, he held up his hand, signalling for her to listen to him. "I realise that you'd prefer they'd found it with other people, but they _are_ truly happy, and it is this which should count above all else. Do you not agree?"

Minerva sighed and nodded. Albus smiled; he knew this would be the first and only time she'd question the couple. That wasn't to say that she supported their relationship - she would simply keep her mouth shut. That settled, the old wizard turned his attention to the Head of Slytherin.

"And you, my boy, needn't take the thoughts of others to heart as you do." He patted the younger man on the shoulder. "All that truly matters is how you, Harry and little Charlotte feel."

Severus sneered; it was not that simple. "With all due respect, Albus, our _happiness_," his upper-lip curled in distaste, "is balanced precariously on the edge of society's acceptance. If my own colleagues, Potter's teachers, don't appear to trust me with their _golden child_, what hope is there for us?"

Throughout his spiel, Harry had remained silent. It wouldn't do to interrupt his partner, even though he loathed the nicknames, and he hated it when Severus referred to him by his surname. However, he knew that the older man wouldn't be arguing the case if he didn't care about their newly formed family...if he didn't care about Harry himself...

"Severus, child, it is public knowledge that you have the faculty's support. And let it be said that what happens behind closed doors is nobody's business but your own." He sent Harry a wink that, quite frankly, disturbed the young wizard more than anything else.

Minerva spluttered at the suggestion, but remained silent. Harry shot her a grateful glance.

Meanwhile, Severus had risen from his seat. "While I appreciate your concern, I trust you'll leave the subject of our private lives well alone unless prompted to do otherwise by either Harry or myself." Without waiting for a reply, he swept off, leaving his red-faced partner to deal with the aftermath.

Harry shuffled his feet, unsure of what to do next. He wished Severus had asked him to follow or something along those lines.

"I, er...I'm...going to follow him, actually..." He gestured in the direction in which Snape had recently left and pulled himself up from his seat. Minerva reached for his arm.

"Sit, Harry..." Her voice was gentle, and he looked at her wearily as he complied.

"You must understand that I am worried for the two of you," she continued, and Harry arched an eyebrow in response. With a small smile, she shook her head. "Keep that up, lad, and people will begin to say you've been spending too much time with Severus..." He smirked and she patted his cheek. "Potter, no-one believes that the two of you deserve happiness more than I, which is why I worry that you will only end up hurting one another..."

Expression darkening, Harry stared back at his head of house. "Professor, above all else, Severus is my friend. We've discussed the pros and cons...We'd never hurt each other, even if we separated. I need him, and I think he needs me...Please try to understand. We're happy. Be glad for us."

The old woman sighed. "I'll try, Potter. I'll try."

Harry grinned. "That's all I can ask."

**-?-**

In his quarters, Severus was fuming. "How dare that woman question my integrity!" He hexed a pillow and, within seconds, feathers filled the room. "What right does she think she has to insult my child?" Another cushion was obliterated.

Draco could only watch as Snape destroyed his chambers, cushion by cushion. "Severus, please, for your daughter's sake, calm yourself..."

The older Slytherin paused, halfway through a curse that would, theoretically, cause boils to erupt all over the target's skin. At the mention of his daughter, however, he seemed to deflate. The cushion, had it been anything other than an inanimate object, might have sighed in relief.

After a few seconds of awkward silences, a sly smirk spread across Draco's face. "Professor Dumbledore made a good point, you know..."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Watch yourself, Malfoy..."

"But," the blond haired youth persisted, "you _do_ deserve to be _happy_. All three of you. And," his smirk seemed to grow, "judging by Potter's spiel, there's a few things you could do to ensure that..." Daring a wink, Draco brought in the clincher. "Even _Dumbledore_ insists that you need a good shag."

Snape spun around, his dark eyes blazing. "Get out of my sight, Malfoy." His tone was cold and quiet. Dangerous. And he definitely regretted sharing his memory of the prior scene in the Great Hall with the blond brat.

"But Potter's _happiness _is important! As is yours!" The boy grinned wickedly. "You heard the old man; go shag like bunnies! It'll do you both good, I'm sure."

Not particularly appreciating the reminder that Draco had experienced more with Harry than he, Severus snapped. "Out!" He bellowed, pointing an elegant finger towards the portrait of Lord Brychan. "Now!"

Deciding that he had possibly gone a little too far, Draco exited the Head of Slytherin's chambers as quickly as was possible, while still maintaining his dignity.

As he dawdled down the corridor, Harry brushed past him.

"Oi!" The blond called after the other, "He's not exactly in the most receptive mood!"

He was, of course, ignored.

Harry gave the portrait the password and entered his and Severus' quarters, only to be assaulted by the sound of his daughter's loud wails.

He stopped at the door to her room, choosing to watch his partner's attempts to calm her. He was mildly surprised at the softness of Severus' tone, though he'd witnessed moments like these before.

"Sshh," the Slytherin cooed, rocking the infant in his arms. "It's over now. No more shouting."

As the babe continued to howl, Severus settled down in the rocking chair situated by the magical window which was bewitched, at that moment, to display the night sky, complete with shooting stars.

"That boy is insufferable at times." Severus rocked the chair. "However, if it weren't for him, you would not exist; a notion which is now entirely unfathomable to me."

From his position, Harry scowled. How on earth had he upset Severus _this_ time? He stayed where he was, hoping to hear more.

"Your father wouldn't change his actions for the world, either." A small smile crept over Severus' lips, though, from his place at the door, Harry did not see it. "Worships you, he does...not that I can fault him for it." Charlotte was quietening down; the sound of Snape's voice was soothing her nerves. "But that boy...he believes he can meddle...he makes suggestions..." Severus sighed. "He doesn't realise that these are constant reminders that he was there first. I doubt he even realises that I _wish_ it _had_ been me..."

Harry's jaw dropped. It wasn't him that Severus was upset with; it was Draco! And, more confusing yet, it sounded as though he was _jealous_ of the younger Slytherin!

"Your father doesn't understand..." Snape stroked his daughter's cheek. "I wish to wait so that our first time is...flawless. So that his memories of any other man, particularly Malfoy, are hazy at best..."

Harry felt guilty for eavesdropping, so he walked into the room, acting as though he'd just arrived. "There you are!" He exclaimed, hoping that his tendency to blush wouldn't betray him. "When couldn't hear cursing or yelling, I got a little worried..." He smiled warmly at the older man. "Also, who murdered a duck in the living room?" He was, of course, referring to the cushion massacre.

"How long were you by the door?" Severus didn't sound angry, just tired.

Harry pondered the merits of telling a little white lie. "I don't-"

"Don't lie, Harry." The defeat in Snape's voice was more upsetting than anything else Harry had received from the man. "I'm still a capable Legilimens." He met Harry's gaze. "How long were you there?"

The Gryffindor sighed. "Long enough." He knelt beside the chair, his hand on Severus' knee. "I'm not the type to...I wasn't trying to make you feel like you're inadequate...I just...I wanted them to see that you're a good man..."

"But you'd prefer it if I gave you a good shag-"

"No!" Harry reached up and, in a bold move, stroked Severus' cheek. "I'm happy enough knowing that I've got you...no, that _we've_ got you in our lives...I can wait forever for anything else..."

Severus responded with a look of disbelief.

"Bloody hell, Snape, I'm serious!"

Obsidian eyes narrowed. "Careful, Potter..."

"No, you have to listen to _me _this time." The younger man responded defiantly. It was probably a bad move, he decided, as anger flashed in his partner's eyes.

Snape stood, deliberately brushing Harry's hands away. He placed Charlotte in her crib, then made his way to his bedroom. Harry scowled and followed him, casting a quick monitoring charm on the nursery before shutting the door behind him.

He strode determinedly into Severus' room, not bothering to knock. "Who in Merlin's name do you think you are?!"

Snape spun around, looking more furious than ever. "Clearly," he spat, taking a menacing step forward, "I believe I'm an arrogant _Potter_; I can do whatever the fuck I want, and I don't give a rat's arse who I insult in the process!"

Reeling backwards in self-righteous anger, the younger wizard snapped. "You know full well that that's not true! I'm nothing like that! If anything, you've been describing yourself! Ever wonder why you earned those awful nicknames, Snape? Wonder why I'm copping flack for telling everyone I love you? They don't believe that you can be nice, sensitive and caring, that's why! And, right now, I don't blame them!"

"Who do you think you are, boy, bursting into _my_ room and abusing me? Isn't it enough that you've turned my life upside down? That I'm the laughing stock of our world because you had someone impersonate me and then used them as nothing more than a glorified sex toy?" Severus had advanced on Harry with every sentence, so that, once silent, he'd backed the younger man against a wall.

He barely registered that Harry was shaking as he grabbed his upper arms.

"How dare you begin to think that you can order me to listen to you?"

Harry swallowed the sobs that threatened to escape his lips, and blinked away his traitorous tears. "I'm sorry to have caused you trouble, Professor...I'll...I'll take my daughter and leave you in peace..." He attempted to push the other wizard from him, but found that Severus refused to let him go.

"Do not play the miserable victim here, Potter-"

"Why?" Harry snapped, cutting him off. "Do _you_ want to play the role instead?"

He was rewarded for his comment with a rough shove against the wall.

"Grow up, Potter."

Harry met Severus' eyes insolently. "Only if you do, _Sir_."

They stood in silence for minutes, in the same position, the tension mounting with each passing second.

Then it was there; a strange, somewhat familiar feeling...Neither man knew where it had originated, nor when, but still it was there upon them, hanging above their heads, making the air around them even more tense.

Harry stared up into Severus' eyes, just searching. For what, he wasn't sure...But soon he saw it; a gleam...a flash of emotion, of pride...of _challenge. _Somethinginside him snapped, and he pushed himself up onto his toes, yearning for height, needing to be at the other man's level. Severus seemed to feel the same, as he was slowly slouching downwards...then their lips met.

The kiss was devoid of emotion. It was powerful and lustful, with each wizard struggling to dominate the other. Their tongues battled, their lips crushed...Hands tugged at hair and clothing...

Through his trousers Harry could feel Severus' arousal rub against his own. Apparently, so could Severus. The older man moaned throatily, and soon Harry felt himself being fondled.

Panting, he pulled away. "No..."

Severus met his gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "No?" He echoed, his hand doing some decidedly naughty things. "Why ever not, Potter? I thought you wanted this. In fact," he rubbed his thumb over the head of Harry's member, "I'd say you're _bursting_ for it..."

"I..." Harry's voice came out as nothing more than a squeak. He cleared his throat. "Gods, Severus...I do...But-" Snape's smug grin faltered. "-Not like this. I...I love you, you evil git...and I don't want you to fuck me because you think you have to...I want you to _want_ to...to _need_ to...emotionally _and_ physically."

Severus shook his head. "You really are thick, aren't you?" He brought his hand up to caress Harry's face. "I love you...more than I care to admit, actually...You're an irritating little shit at times, but I still do. And this," he pushed himself against his young lover, so that his erection was more than evident, "should tell you everything else you need to know."

Harry smiled, their argument receding into the back of his memory. All he knew now was that he'd been right in defending his lover, and that, no matter how they fought, he and Severus would be fine.

"So...you're sure you want to continue?" He eventually asked, trying not to focus on the other man's nether regions. "Because I meant what I said earlier...I'm willing to wait until I've graduated...or until you're ready-"

"Merlin, Potter, you make it sound as though I'm a sixteen year old girl..." Severus smirked, and allowed his hand to drift downwards again, eliciting a moan of approval from his partner. "I don't believe I want to wait any longer, actually." He whispered, unbuttoning Harry's trousers.

And it was the truth; people would judge him no matter what he chose...and Harry _was_ a consenting adult. What did it matter, ethically, if they consummated their relationship now or in a few months' time? It was no-one's business but their own, especially as Harry had decided to drop Potions completely, so that they were not interacting in a classroom as teacher and student.

That decided, they moved from the wall to the bed, pausing to savour short kisses along the way.

Harry's heart beat frantically in an odd mixture of adrenaline and fear. It wasn't as though he feared his lover -far from it, to tell the truth- it was that he feared that this might be an extremely vivid dream and nothing more, or that, once over, Severus would regret everything. He soon set aside his doubts, though, as Severus' tongue was trailing down his body, making his skin tingle in its wake.

Moaning, Harry arched into the contact. "More..." he whimpered, and Severus complied.

**-?-**

Later that night, Harry snuggled into Severus' arms feeling sticky but extremely sated. Their first session had been clumsy and heated, yes, but it had been genuine and extremely pleasurable, so neither man could say they were disappointed. The second time had been longer and less frantic...and their third had been languid and composed mainly of passionate kisses that had almost brought Harry to completion on their own.

"Mmm," He murmured, savouring the feeling of Severus' skin flush against his own, "Can we stay like this forever?" He felt Severus smirk into his hair.

"I do believe we'd get extremely uncomfortable..."

He laughed and closed his eyes. This would be their little secret. Their rather dirty little secret.

**-?-**

Snake slithered through the grounds, pondering, as she had been doing for weeks, the merits of letting Harry in on _her_ secret. Certainly, the truth would come to light eventually...but, if he were to know _now_, he might offer to assist later on...

School had returned, and she found herself continually dodging the feet of surprised students, many of who were clearly afraid of her, even from metres away. She usually avoided students quite neatly, but, on this occasion, she was preoccupied, and didn't sense the danger until it was too late...

Draco heard the young girl's squeal from the Quidditch pitch and mounted his broom. From the air he could see the huddled group by the lake and flew over to them. It wasn't that he felt the need to help at all; he was merely curious as to the cause of the commotion. Touching down, he dismounted and pulled a first year out of the group.

"What's going on here?"

The startled boy, a Hufflepuff, stammered a short reply; "A s-snake att-ttacked H-henrietta."

Draco frowned; snakes rarely attacked on Hogwarts grounds, not unless they were under threat. Without letting another moment pass, he cast a Sonorous charm at his throat, and yelled at the group.

"Everyone shut up and get out of my bloody way!"

The first and second years scattered like insects, the third years not far behind. A few fourth years sent him scathing looks, but shifted for him anyway. That left a couple of fifth and sixth years to push away, and the injured first year.

Removing the spell on his voice, he turned to a nearby Ravenclaw. "Get Pomfrey." When the girl hesitated he barked; "Now!"

Turning his attention back to the whimpering first year, he crouched down to her level. "Where'd it bite you?"

Through her sobs, she showed him her wrist, where two clean puncture marks were evident.

His scowl deepened. "What were you doing to the poor snake for it to bite you?"

A shifty looking boy answered on her behalf. "Nothing!" He cried, brandishing his book-bag and shaking it wildly. "The evil thing just came up and lunged at us! Better not be poisonous, but I caught it just in case. Tried to bite me, too!"

Eyeing the book-bag, Draco's countenance darkened. "It had better not be in _there_..." He said, grabbing the bag, "Not with the way you're shaking it..."

The boy glared back at him insolently, but didn't speak, making the Slytherin's blood boil.

"And I'd say that your friend deserved to be bitten. You were clearly doing something to the creature, otherwise the bite-mark wouldn't be _on her wrist_!"

"You can't prove that!"

A smug grin settled on Draco's face. "Actually, I can."

**-?-**

Harry looked up from his position on the couch at the sharp tapping on the door. "For the last time, I am _not _doing any more interviews!"

"Potter, you git, nobody wants to hear anything you have to say...Now open up!"

Harry laughed and set aside his book. "Alright, Malfoy, steady on..." He got up and opened the door. "What d'you want?"

Draco grabbed his arm. "_You_, actually. Dumbledore's orders." He pulled the other boy to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in. "Headmaster's office!" He cried, pushing Harry into the flames.

Harry fell out onto Dumbledore's rug at the other end, followed shortly by Draco. He was surprised to find Severus and Poppy waiting for him, and would have been suspicious, if not for the sullen first years sitting in front of their ever-stoic Head of House.

"What's going on?" He asked, brushing himself off.

"Mr. Malfoy suspects these students of attempting to harm an animal; an allegation supported by the position of bite marks on Miss Spalding's forearm..." Dumbledore responded gravely.

Harry glanced at his lover. "And this has what, exactly, to do with me?"

"We have the opportunity to question the creature, though this will not be possible without your unique ability." Again, the response came from the Headmaster.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Potter's intelligence is limited, Headmaster. We must spell it out for him." He turned to Harry, who was barely able to stifle his grin, and added; "The _creature_ the Headmaster refers to is, of course, a serpent. As you are a Parselmouth, Mr Malfoy requests that you ask the snake for its account of the event."

The Gryffindor nodded, it all made sense. Serpents were not prone to lie, and it would only be fair to hear both sides of the argument…

"Alright…where's the snake, then?"

Draco retrieved the book-bag from the chair in the corner of the room. He hadn't been stupid enough to open it, knowing that an irate snake would be ready to attack whoever got in its path. "I placed a charm on the bag for the snake's comfort," he said, gently handing it over to the Headmaster.

"Quite thoughtful, Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore replied, his eyes sparkling. He placed the bag on the desk, pointed his wand, muttered a simple opening charm, and waited for the serpent inside to make the first move.

Harry instantly recognised Snake's hiss and rushed forward. "Snake!" He cried, not certain which language he was speaking. "Snake, it's okay, it's me, Harry."

Slowly Snake's head emerged from the flap of material. "Harry?" She echoed, testing the air for his scent. Once certain it was really her charge, she sped out of the bag and onto Harry's waiting arm. "Wicked hatchlingssssss." She spat, spying the two first-year students. "Wicked, wicked hatchlingsssss."

Harry frowned and patted her scales in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "What did they do to you, Snake?"

"I wassss not paying attention…I wassss caught by ssssssurprissssse." She rubbed her head against his chin. "The female took hold of my tail…It wasssss quite painful…"

Harry had heard enough. He continued to sooth his pet (for, at that moment, he couldn't help but feel as if she was just that; a creature that needed his love and care) whilst shooting angry looks in the students' direction.

Then, all of a sudden, Snake was agitated. "I musssst leave!" She insisted, struggling to make her way to the floor. The little girl screamed, thinking that the serpent was out for revenge, but Snake fled to the nearest exit. "I musssst sssssee to my eggsssss."

"Your eggs? Is that what you've been keeping from me?" Harry grinned. "Oh, Snake, you should have told me…we could have set you up a nice nook in our quarters-"

"Harry, I musssst sssee to my eggssss. My young will ssssooon be with ussss!"

Harry ran to the door and let her out. She was gone within seconds, speeding through secret corridors, leaving Harry to explain everything to the others.

**-?-**

"Look at them…" Draco marvelled.

A few days had passed, and Harry had convinced Snake to allow them to move her eggs to the castle, where they could best be looked after. Draco had been the most excited by the 'litter'. There were 5 eggs in total; which was the average for magical serpents. He kept watch on them and made certain that, when hatching time arrived, there would be no complications. And so it was, then, that Draco had been the first to notice the eggs moving.

"Look…they're so tiny…"

Harry smirked. "Yeah. And shiny…"

Rolling his eyes, Draco moved to pat Snake, who had coiled herself up behind her young, keeping an eye on them, as any parent does their children. She accepted his touch as usual, her tongue flickering in and out, memorising the scent of her young. Naturally, they'd be sent to a wizarding pet store once old enough, but she would savour their identities until the day she died.

Harry watched her, then Draco, then Snake again. "Snake…" he started, hesitantly. "I've, er, got an idea…"

**-?-**

Harry grinned at Hermione and Ron as he plonked himself down on the Gryffindor common room couch. It had been a long time since he'd last done so, in fact it had been a long time since he'd spoken to the two about anything other than schoolwork, and he was enjoying himself immensely.

"So, anyway, I was wondering if you guys had ever thought of adoption…" He said, watching as Ron turned purple and Hermione spluttered.

"Harry! What…? Why…? You're not thinking about giving little Charlie up, are you? I don't see old Snape agreeing to that!"

Harry laughed at his redheaded friend and shook his head. "No…Of course not, you git! I'm actually referring to Snake's hatchlings…They need good homes…and I know you guys would be perfect!"

Now Ron looked mortified.

"I'm not all that sure, Harry…" Hermione began to reply. "We're not parselmouths for one, and-"

"'Mione, you should be the first person to realise that there are hundreds of wizards with snakes that can't speak the language…" Harry was not leaving the common room without a positive response. "Besides, Severus is looking into a potion that will change all that…if only temporarily…"

At this, his bushy-haired companion perked up considerably. _Ever the academic,_ he thought, knowing exactly which buttons to push.

"I'm not exactly fussed on snakes to be honest…" Ron admitted, having regained his voice. "I mean, they…well…they frighten me…"

The boy-who-lived chuckled. "Yeah, well, they do grow on you…" He resorted to pleading. "Please, guys, for me?"

Knowing that Harry wouldn't desist unless they agreed, the couple sighed. "Alright, Harry," Hermione told him, "On one condition."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "Yeah?"

"You've got to promise you'll drop round at our place with Charlotte and Professor Snape for tea at least once a month."

Ron nodded, though he seemed a bit flabbergasted at the mention of his Potions professor. "Go on, then. Promise us, and you've got yourself a deal. We'll take on a squirming, slimy blighter…"

"Ronald!"

He sighed dejectedly. "I mean, we'll take on an adorable little ankle-biter."

"Deal!" Harry cried, leaning in for a group hug. "Come down to our quarters after supper and you can choose which snake-ling you'd like."

That settled, the trio went on discussing a wide array of topics, before Harry left to convince a few more students that they should consider adopting a snake as a familiar.

**-?-**

Later that night found an odd group of students huddled around the portrait of Lord Brychan.

"Harry invited us 'round." Ron told him matter-of-factly, his arm thrown casually about Hermione's shoulders.

"Yes…he's giving us our very own silver-snouted virmiscious snidges!" That, of course, was Luna.

Neville laughed. "Well…I'm just adopting a snake, actually…" His smile faded when she glowered in his direction.

"Wait here." Brychan eventually instructed, irritated with their babbling. He returned and tiredly let them in.

Once inside, the four students hugged their host (or, rather, their Gryffindor host; the Slytherin was inside the nursery, preparing their daughter for bed) and followed him into the room that had originally been allocated to him. A large table had been transfigured into a warming rock, and that was where the small serpents were huddled together, their mother watching them from a few metres away.

Draco was already there, having been given pick of the litter, so to speak, for all his efforts taking care of them. He'd selected two of the snakes, much to Harry's delight, and was pondering over names. Neville approached the rock first, and inspected the remaining three. He really didn't mind which snake he received; at least he would have another companion. Things hadn't really been the same since Trevor had croak…er…_passed on_. Ron and Hermione were next to approach the rock, with Luna close on their heels. Naturally, it was she who chose first.

"Ooh!" she cooed, moving to stroke the smallest snake, "A perfect snidge! The breeding is superb in this one! Oh, Father will be so pleased!"

Smiling, Hermione congratulated her for her fantastic choice. "I rather like this little one," she told Ron, gesturing at a snake with rainbow-coloured scales. "She…or he…is so enchanting." She flashed him a dazzling smile. "Don't you think?" He couldn't help but agree.

Their choices made, Neville stroked the remaining snake with a smile. It wasn't as colourful as any of the others, nor did its scales sparkle as vividly, but, as it shifted to taste his scent, he knew it was the perfect familiar for him. There was something in the way it moved…something dignified and graceful…it was perfect.

From the doorway, Harry watched his friends interacting with their newfound companions, and praised himself for his plan. With his closest, most trusted acquaintances looking after the young serpents, Harry could take Snake on visits, so that she might never have to worry about losing touch with them completely.

All in all, it appeared that everything was working out nicely.

**-?-**

The months passed quickly, and it felt as though NEWTS had snuck up on the seventh years of Hogwarts. So, it was not surprising, on the morning of their first load of tests, to find Hermione Granger mulling over a stack of books as tall as Draco himself.

"Oh, Gods," she muttered, "I'd completely forgotten this!" She grabbed the nearest passing person, who just happened to be Ginny. "D'you think others studied about the effects of doxy dust on baby mandrakes?" She whacked the book as hard as she could upon the table. "What if that's on the written test?"

Looking somewhat like a bird caught in the wandlight of an oncoming broomstick, Ginny patted her shoulder reassuringly. "You, of all people, will be fine, Hermione."

She let her arm go, and sighed. "I hope so."

"What, Granger, your pet Weasel not good enough?" Draco asked jovially as he sat down across from them, gesturing between the two Gryffindors. "Gotta go for the Weaslette, too? Keepin' it in the family, I suppose."

Ginny blushed. "No, Malfoy…I…I'm n-not…_we're_ not…"

"Easy, tiger, take a breath…" Draco was more than amused. He looked at Hermione. "She always this incoherent?"

"Only when it's you she has to face." She muttered, much to Ginny's horror.

"Oi!" She exclaimed. "Hermione!"

She glowered. "What? _I'm_ trying to study. If bridging the gap is going to get the two of you out of my hair any faster, then I'll be damned if I don't try."

"What's she on about, eh?" Draco looked at the red-faced Gryffindor curiously. "You've got an issue with me?"

Ginny averted her gaze. "No…"

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione hissed. "Look, Draco, Ginny here finds you attractive, Merlin only knows why… but she doesn't want to say anything because she's convinced you're not of the same persuasion." She shot him a pointed glare. "Even though we've told her we know otherwise."

Yes, it was true. Over the passing months Draco had admitted that, while he was known for chasing men on the side, he had the occasional desire to chase skirts too. Bisexuality was rather common amongst pureblooded wizards and witches, though most chose to stick to the opposite sex purely for breeding purposes.

Draco's look of confusion immediately morphed into a predatory grin. He looked at Ginny in a whole new light; as fresh meat. "Interesting…" He mused, tilting his head to the side, observing the now mortified young woman in front of him. Ginny Weasley wasn't his usual type…but there was a certain air of wickedness to her that was vaguely appealing. "Fancy a walk, Weaslette? Leave the bookworm here to her studies?"

"I…what?"

The Slytherin teen sighed and pulled himself from his seat. He grasped the younger girl by the arm and began to pull her from the Great Hall. "Let's walk. I need a bit of fresh air before NEWTS start…"

"Oh…I suppose…"

"Good. Come along then."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they left.

**-?-**

Harry was only vaguely surprised to see Draco Malfoy leading a blushing Ginny Weasley out of the Great Hall and out onto the grounds. There was no way Ginny would have come clean about her feelings on her own…which meant that someone had probably tipped the blond off.

"I'm willing to bet 5 sickles that it was the Weasley boy." Severus spoke out behind him, causing him to chuckle. He'd obviously been thinking along the same lines as Harry himself.

"I don't know…You've never seen how bitchy Hermione can get around exam time. If you put one foot out of line, she'll do anything to get rid of you…" He turned on his heel and took Charlotte out of his lover's hands. "And I do mean anything. I'm willing to bet she's really highly strung today, with NEWTS and all…"

The older man nodded. "Either way, I've come close to telling Malfoy myself a number of times, if only to get the chit out of our hair…"

"Tell me about it…" Harry smirked, pushing the large, double doors open. "Game faces on, Luv." They both appeared stoic as they entered the hall together, even though the novelty of Harry Potter and Severus Snape had worn off for the population of Hogwarts months earlier. Charlotte, however, gurgled happily, oblivious to the image her parents were trying to maintain.

"Ah, 'Mione…Settle something for us…" Harry said, taking Draco's recently vacated seat. "I just saw captain peroxide and Ginny race out of here hand in hand…" She looked up expectantly. "What did you do?"

"I just told Draco that Ginny fancied him." She shrugged. "He was ticking me off."

Harry chuckled and Severus rolled his eyes. "Told you so." The-Boy-Who-Lived said, handing his daughter over to her other father. "Wuv you, Charlie. Be good for Daddy, okay?"

"She always is." Severus informed him, already in Professor mode. "And good luck today, Potter." He patted Harry's shoulder awkwardly. Public displays of affection were not his strong suit and never would be. He nodded at Hermione, "Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor." She replied, before diving back into her book, nose first.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Severus."

"Don't expect any more from me, Potter."

Harry nodded, seeing the amusement in his lover's eyes. "No, Sir."

"Good. Now eat your breakfast and we'll see you tonight."

"Yes, Sir."

**-?­-**

"Merlin's beard, I'm never _ever_ doing anything like that again!" Harry cried as he dropped into a chair in his and Severus' living room later that evening. He cradled his hand. "I don't think I'll ever be able to write again anyway…"

"You'll survive."

The teenager glowered. "I don't know why I expected you to sympathise…I mean, you did this twenty bloody years ago, 'course you wouldn't remember…"

"Whatever doesn't kill you, Potter-"

"Can only make me stronger, I know."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "I was actually going to say that whatever can't kill you obviously has less aptitude than Longbottom does in potions."

"Oh so sweet, Severus."

"Naturally."

Harry popped his feet up on the coffee table and observed his partner. "Charlie was good for you today?"

Severus smiled, as he usually did when they were in private and their daughter was involved. "Of course."

" 'She do anything out of the ordinary?"

"Why?" Immediately, Snape was concerned. "If there's something I should know about…"

"No…I just…Aren't kids supposed to start doing accidental magic around her age?"

With a sigh of relief, Severus shrugged and summoned a house elf. "Two teas. Earl Grey. One with sugar. Two lumps." Once the steaming cup was in front of him, he eyed the other man. "In some cases, yes…But it does take some children, especially those born from men, a little longer to develop." He took a sip from his cup. "There's no reason to start worrying, Potter. Not yet, at any rate."

"Oh, good."

Snape shook his head. Sometimes it really struck him that Harry was so much younger than he, with so much to learn…It was a wonder they had as few fights as they did. _Hmm, speaking of learning…_ "You're well prepared for your practical examinations tomorrow, I should hope."

Harry closed his eyes, clearly not wanting to think about his NEWTS any more than he had to. "As I'll ever be."

Arching an eyebrow, Severus asked; "And more practice would go astray?"

"No…" The younger wizard was getting frustrated. Trust his lover to act like a teacher at the time he least needed it. "But I need rest…My hand aches, my head hurts…I _feel_ competent enough…"

"Alright." Snape rose from his seat, leaving the conversation there.

However, Harry felt as though he had more to say. "Oh, don't give me that!" He cried, craning his neck to call after his retreating lover. "You're being the Professor at the moment, so have at it! Tell me that I need to perfect my spell casting! Insist that I work on my pronunciation! Tell me to go and read a bloody book until I have everything perfected!"

"Potter, you're being childish."

"Oh-ho!" The Gryffindor was out of his seat in an instant, his finger pointed in an accusatory fashion. "You think I'm a child! After everything we've been through-"

Snape was not having any of it. "-You are currently _acting_ the child, Potter. That does not necessarily mean that you _are_ one."

Harry frowned, and jutted out his bottom lip. Severus was right. Severus was _always_ bloody right. "Well, the least you could do is offer a little sympathy when I need it."

Rolling his eyes, the older wizard shook his head. "I'm the same bastard I was when you fell in love with me. Not even spending every waking moment with you is going to change that. Which," he added, meeting Harry's glare, "you have always known."

"But-"

"But nothing, Potter."

'Hrrrumph'ing, Harry backed down. "Could at least pretend to care." He mumbled.

With a sigh, Severus moved back to squeeze Harry's shoulder. "You know very well that I do, Harry." He spoke softly. "I'm just not one for ludicrous displays of affection."

Amused green eyes met obsidian. "Not all displays of affection are 'ludicrous'."

Bending his head, Severus kissed Harry chastely. "I'm well aware of that, Potter. I'm well aware."

**-?-**

Before he knew it, Harry had graduated and had been offered a Quidditch scholarship at a nearby Wizarding University, where he would continue to advance his studies in Care of Magical Creatures. He'd considered majoring in Defence Against The Dark Arts for a whole two seconds before deciding that he'd done far too much in the area already. He didn't know what, exactly, he'd do with his degree once he graduated from university…but he didn't really care just yet. He was free to do something he was interested in.

Severus had been pleased and supportive, in his own little way, and had even offered suggestions as to the types of careers that would be open to Harry. So far, the one that had appealed the most had been a vet, of sorts, for magical creatures. And, if he really felt like it, Harry could branch out and even study the 'muggle' variety of pets as well, enabling him to practice in both worlds.

The notion that, in this field, Harry could retrieve him valuable potions ingredients at below cost had also been a motivating factor for the Slytherin to support his mate, though he wouldn't ever admit it to the boy.

Dumbledore had been most pleased at the notion as well, and had even offered Harry a part-time job assisting Hagrid with his magical menagerie, if only to help the boy with his understanding of the typical work that would come his way in the future.

And so it was, then, that Harry and Severus settled into a well-established routine and lived, for the most part, quite contentedly at Hogwarts during the school years. Certainly, they still had their little tiffs, and it could be hard at times raising a daughter, working, studying and managing to maintain a relatively active sex-life, but, I assure you, they managed quite well.

And this, my friends, is where we shall leave them; curled up by the fire in their quarters at Hogwarts, reading to their first child. It is a picture of domestic bliss. I cannot assure you that they will live 'happily ever after', but, for now, it is safe to assume that Harry Potter and Severus Snape are remarkably content with one another. And to think, it all started with one dirty little secret from the Boy Who Lived…

Fin…for now.

* * *

A/N- (Is Sobbing). It's over. It's really, truly over. Again. The ending is anti-climatic, I know… But I didn't want this to drag on. I owed you as much. LOL. I'll let you entertain thoughts about what might happen from here on…There probably wont be a sequel, I'm afraid. Not unless I come up with a unique twist to it. Hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what y'all thought. Thank you to everyone who followed me through this. For the third time. Keep an eye out for more works down the track!

Ciao for now,

All my Love,

Molvanian Queen In Exile.


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